


We Can Go Home

by foxxed



Series: Are You Ready For Our Dance? [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, I have a thing for Howard Stark so please slap me if I get too excited of writing him, Peggy knows her value, Peggy knows who her Steve is, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve is a time travelling idiot, Steve knows how to please a lady, everybody is in love with Peggy obv, there are some gun fights but c'mon this is an agent carter fanfic, they are agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-04-06 19:46:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19069447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxxed/pseuds/foxxed
Summary: Peggy Carter has a man claiming to be Steve Rogers handcuffed to a radiator // or Steve Rogers time travels the way he jumps out of quinjets - without a parachute.





	1. The War Is Over

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Season 1 of Agent Carter.

**The War Is Over.**

**New York. Late 1946**

Steve Rogers knew his current situation was less than ideal. 

The chain of the handcuffs rattled as he re-positioned himself, testing how far he could lean away from the steel table in the small interrogation room. He could break the chain easily, something his captures might be waiting for, but he knew he wouldn’t go far. 

Besides - he was tired of running.

His eyes flickered up to the reflective glass ever so quickly. He sensed movement behind the two way mirror and knew someone was approaching the door. His heart beat steadily faster against his rib cage, reclining when two men stepped into the room. Not her. Not yet.

“So,” the taller one started. He had blond hair and a squint that seemed permanent. “I suppose you know why we have brought you in?”

“A man can no longer reopen his bank account?” Steve barely moved as the men took their places opposite him. He could still see his reflection in between them and knew he was being studied.

The blond man squinted even more - if that was possible. “Not when he tries to reopen an account belonging to a deceased soldier.”

In SSR’s defense of capturing him - he had been a bit of an idiot. Part of him wanted to find his home, knowing it most likely had been given up, and just be  _ Steve _ again before trying to achieve what he had come for. He didn’t want to assume that she would just welcome him into her life, into her  _ home _ . He wanted to do this right.

But, yeah - trying to reopen Captain America’s account was an open invitation for getting in trouble.

“Especially trying to reopen it without any form of ID,” the agent continued. Again - he had been an idiot. The minute he had been back in Brooklyn,  _ his _ Brooklyn, it had felt like he had never left. He could point out the alleys he had been beaten up in, the movie theatres that didn’t have ultra 4D screens that gave him headaches and buildings, that were to be destroyed by aliens in 70 years or so, were still there.

He had been foolish and nostalgic and above all he had been Steve rather than Captain America.

“Lost it in Germany,” he muttered.

“Pardon?” the other agent, who had been watching him rather than questioning him, asked.

“My ID,” Steve spoke up, “I lost in Germany.” His eyes rested upon his reflection once again before moving to look at his hands.

“Then, pray tell, how did you get back in New York?” Squinty McSquintface asked, Steve immediately regretted calling him that in his head. Damn 21st century memes. 

“I, uh,” he sighed before looking directly into the mirror, “hitched a ride?” 

“Sounds like a drop off by Russians to me,” the other agent said, while the blond man followed Steve’s gaze to the mirror. 

“Can you look through that thing?” he scoffed, turning back. The other agent frowned at him. “Might be a - Captain America thing, as that’s who he is claiming to be. Looking through mirror, punching a hole in the wall. Could probably free himself out the cuffs if he puts in a bit of effort.”

Steve had enough.

“Fellas, if you want to ID me, all three of us know there is one person you can ask.” He leaned back into the uncomfortable seat, nodding at the mirror. “I assume she’s right there.”

\--

Peggy’s fingers flexed as she resisted the urge to rest her hand on the window. She had been frozen the entire interrogation, even before it started - when the man had just been sitting there, taking in his surroundings.

Agent Thompson had been adamant she was to be kept out of the man’s sight. The SSR had remained on high alert after Fennhoff and Leviathan, and the idea that Captain America had made a sudden return from the dead sounded like a Trojan Horse. 

When she had been alerted someone had tried to open Steve’s bank account, she at first had assumed that she had been thinking about Steve too much. After all - she had said her goodbyes just last night on the Brooklyn Bridge. 

_ Goodbye, my darling _ , she had said. Had her goodbye been a final granted wish?

“Fellas,” the man said - he sounded like him. But at the same time he didn’t. “I assume she’s right there.” 

Of course he was right, she could give them a simple yes or no. The problem was that the question if he was truly Steve Rogers didn’t have a simple yes or no answer. He looked older and worn. Like a man who had seen war, but not just the one. She had seen the look of soldiers who had been asked to pick up arms again back in 1939. Those lucky to have survived The Great War, those knowing what was asked of them again. They did not have the fresh, eager face a young and smaller Steve Rogers had when he had been signing up  for war again and again. 

This man staring at her while not seeing her, had seen more than just the one war. 

Agent Thompson and Greer had heard enough, signing for an officer to bring the man to a holding cell. 

He went quietly, though his physique could easily take on all three men in the room. When his cuffs were changed and he was no longer shackled to the table, he gave her - no the mirror - one final longing look.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

\--

Steve paced the cell.  _ Travel back in time _ , they said,  _ it’ll be fine. _

He hurled himself onto the bed, forgetting how non existent mattresses were and heard the screech of his weight bending the metal frame. Making a mental note to ask Peggy and Howard to make the SHIELD holding cells a bit more comfortable, he realized he was not planning on spending any time in those when the time came. Not that he could tell them about SHIELD. 

A sense of dread spread through his veins. Had this been a mistake?

The idea of giving his trip around time a different end destination had been playing with him ever since he saw her through the blinds in 1970. His picture - a picture of the real him - had planted the idea that Peggy thought of him every day at work and that he still meant something to her.  _ I could just stay here _ , had been the dark thought. He could’ve told Tony there was only one Pym Particle vial and that Tony should be the one to go back to his family.

But then what would he have been? He knew Peggy had a family in that time, and it had been decades since she saw him. 

So the idea had remained a fleeting thought. That was until Tony died, thus ending the war, and Steve had tried to content him with the idea of him, Bucky and Sam starting anew. As Steve had been the only option to return Mjolnir, he had continued to try to tell Bucky his plans after he got back.

“Steve,” Bucky had said after another vague story of rebuilding the quad upon his return. “The war is over.”  _ We can go home. _

His eyes shot open and he was on his feet in seconds when the door to his cell creaked. It had been hours since they brought him in and it had to be well into the night. Could it be - ?

It wasn’t.

A tall gentleman, looking completely out of his element, stood in the doorway holding the keys to the cell. “Right,” he said with a British accent, “Good evening or should I say morning, Mister- I mean Captain - I mean -”

Steve wanted to dismiss the man as a threat yet remained tense. “Evening.”

The man was twitchy and continued to stutter. “M-my name is Jarvis, I w-work for -”

“Stark!” Steve’s heart leapt - this -  _ this _ man was Jarvis?

“Y-yes, quite - quite right,” Jarvis cleared his throat, “I’m asked to escort you. Now. This instance.” 

Oddly enough a sense of giddiness bubbled in Steve’s stomach. “On whose orders?” he asked bemused. Jarvis simply squeaked and Steve didn’t press further. Instead he simply walked past Jarvis into the hallway, where several guards were laid unconscious. 

He looked up at Jarvis, impressed. “Quite the right hook you have, mister Jarvis.” 

“Yes, well - I mean, it wasn’t exactly -”

No, it didn’t look exactly like this man’s style. But it did looked like someone else’s.

\---

Peggy paced the length of the hallway. It was one of Howard’s safehouses, one of the more hidden and less well kept safehouses, but a safehouse nevertheless, tucked well away in Brooklyn. 

She knew she was going to be in real trouble the following day at the office, knocking out several agents to clear the way before rushing to Brooklyn. She couldn’t hide him in Howard’s townhouse as that would be the first place they’d look for him. Plus Angie would be quite the hassle to explain everything to. 

In retrospect, Howard wasn’t aware as well that she was going to keep potential Steve Rogers in one of his safehouses. It had been Jarvis to suggest it. She just wanted to be  _ sure _ , as even after his apology for being late she still was in limbo on who this man was.

The doorknob rattled, making her jump and run into the nearest room. Jarvis was to bring him to the sitting area so she could do her own interrogation but that didn’t mean she was prepared to face a situation where he could actually see her. 

“Through here, Cap- Captain.” She could hear Jarvis say muffled through the door. At least the man didn’t make a run for it, or killed poor mister Jarvis. That would’ve been awkward.

Moments later Jarvis appeared in the room she was hiding, flustered and on edge, but visibly unharmed.

“All clear?” she asked, her voice too high for her liking. 

“All as instructed, miss Carter.” 

“Good, good,” she drawled, looking at the floor, “good, that’s - that’s good.”

“Miss Carter?”

She started. “Yes, mister Jarvis?”

“I know it is not my place,” he cleared his throat and started a rather well rehearsed monologue, “but considering past events regarding Captain Rogers and the impact this situation must have on your well being, please consider postponing meeting him face to face after some rest. I will keep an eye on him until that time, but considering he didn’t as much twitch a muscle as I escorted him, I highly doubt he is going to make a run for it. He appears very much keen to see… to see you.” The last words were less rehearsed. 

“Well,” she said, “If he’s so keen. I shouldn’t keep him waiting now, should I?” 

“Miss Carter,” Jarvis said almost pleadingly, “surely you can spare a few more hours of waiting?”

Something about this idea roused her into movement. She quickly checked her garter where a small handgun was tucked into and grabbed a pair of handcuffs, just in case.

“I think we’ve both waited long enough,” she said, stubbornly.

\---

Steve didn’t know what to do with his hands. He didn’t want to rest them on his belt - his stealth suit days were over, nor did he want to keep them on his back - this wasn’t training camp. 

Of all the things he had been visualising of showing up in the forties to attempt to woo Peggy Carter, this situation most definitely was not it. Had he thought about how he was going to waltz back from the dead? No. Had he planned to at least look presentable, give her flowers, ask her respectfully on a date to explain everything? Yes. 

Instead he was in a weird smelling apartment that had a picture of a young Howard Stark on the wall, and he was sure he saw one in the hallway too, unshaven and in dirty clothes. 

He would give anything to look like he did eleven years ago. How was he going to explain he aged a decade in the span of one year and - suddenly he froze. Someone had entered the room without making any sound. 

It was her. He felt the same he did in her office back in 1970. Or will feel in 1970, or - He forced himself to snap out of it, he needed to look at her - he needed to turn. Why wasn’t he turning?

“What,” her voice -  _ her voice  _ \- it rippled over his skin, through his muscles, pumped through his veins. Her beautiful voice.  _ Wait _ , what was her voice saying? “What did Hodge call me on the first day of training?”

Steve smiled. She would test him, of course she would. She might test him for the rest of their days. He remembered the first time he went to visit Peggy when she was older. She always exclaimed her joy when she realized he was alive, but would question him about everything until she was sure it was him. He was particularly fond of her questions about fonduing. 

“Well?” Peggy urged.

“He called you Queen Victoria,” he answered, still looking at the wall. She remained where she was.

“What… did I do after I caught you snogging that redhead in the SOE bunker?”

Steve couldn’t help but grin, something he was sure she didn’t appreciate. “You shot me, naturally.”

“I shot  _ at _ you -” she interjected.

“And she was blonde, not a redhead.” 

“Fine,” she said, but it didn’t end there. “What did I wear -” For the second time that day, Steve had had enough. 

“Red dress, satin lining. You wanted to go dancing after the war, but you were waiting for the right partner.”

And then he turned around.

\---

Peggy’s breath hitched. No longer protected by a wall or a double sided mirror, she felt unprotected and yet never felt safer.

Steve Rogers was looking at her, taking her in and visibly relaxed at the sight of her. She, however, did not.

“All these answers could have been obtained from witnesses, espionage and documents, the fact that you know the answers to them does not prove you are Captain St-Steve Rogers.”

The man smiled, like he was remembering an inside joke, yet did not take his eyes of her. He moved one step forward and the gun from her garter was faster in her hand than he could adjust his weight from one leg to other. He did lift his hands in surrender straight away.

“Peggy -”

“Stay where you are,” she ordered. “Tell me… tell me something only Steve would know.”

The man frowned ever so slightly and began talking in a soft whisper: “You believed I was meant for more than this. You meant every word.” The memory flushed over her like the rain that fell that day. It was in that moment she had finally seen the smaller man in his new physique. The man she was initially so scared of losing in the experiment, something she had been afraid had actually happened when she saw him in that ridiculous outfit on stage with all those  _ girls _ . 

It hit her like cold water, the realization felt like ice - her Steve didn’t know how to talk to a woman.

And yet the man in front of her was still talking to her. “We were to meet at the Stork Club, eight o’clock, on the dot -” He had moved closer during her train her thoughts, still talking without as much as a stutter or a blush. “We were going to ask the band to play something slow.” He then grinned...  _ flirtatiously,  _ which caught her by such surprise that she knew for sure - this man was  _ not _ Steve Rogers. “Are you ready for our dance -” He barely got the chance to make it a full question before she had stomped on his foot, kneed him between his legs and cuffed his right hand to the nearest radiator before fleeing the room.

\---

Steve grimaced as he hoisted himself into a sitting position against the wall. Peggy Carter had actually cuffed him to a radiator and he had no idea what triggered it.

The door opened again, but it was Jarvis who made a reappearance. 

“Ah, yes,” he muttered after spotting Steve on the floor. “I see.” He was carrying a tray of food which he placed discreetly on the floor, yet still too far for Steve to be able to reach. “Miss Carter apologizes for the inconvenience, but for the time being you are detained in this room until we can confirm your identity.”

Steve huffed. “Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?”

“She didn’t apologize, did she?”

Jarvis made a noncommittal noise. “I’m sure she meant to,” he said, flustered, “She is British after all.” He made moves to leave.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You mind?” He stretched his free arm to its fullest capability, still unable to reach the tray of food. 

“Right away, sir,” Jarvis said with a small bow and shuffled the tray with the tip of his shoe into Steve’s general direction before scurrying out of the room. 

Looking at the food on the tray it actually appeared half decent, he supposed Howard had finer tastes than put everything in a pot and boil it. Eating slowly with his left hand, he really hoped he didn’t need the bathroom at some point.

\---

Peggy didn’t sleep. She either forgot to, or she didn’t allow herself to. 

“Miss Carter,” Jarvis said, sounding far away. “I think - I think Mister Stark would be beneficial in helping to find out the truth.”

She shook her head ever so slightly. “He - if - if this is truly Steve Rogers, he would be more than just a vial of blood to Howard. He would be the answer to all his questions, to rebuild his legacy. He wouldn’t be a Blitzkrieg Button, he’d be a Blitzkrieg Bomb.” She sighed. “And he would be much harder to toss from the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“Miss Carter,” Jarvis began again, “Mister Stark cares for you, he proved that mere weeks ago when…” His voice faltered. “When he thought he had found him.” Peggy ignored him.

“I - I need to go the office, before they truly suspect me. I need to get ready.” She made way to the bathroom before Jarvis, very un-Jarvis-like, blocked her entrance.

“Miss Carter,” he insisted, “In this world, there are perhaps three people who can truly identify Captain Steven Rogers. You, of course, mister Stark and Colonel Phillips.” Peggy frowned, but didn’t argue. “Now, of those two I would have a strong worry for the Colonel’s heart if we sprung this news upon him, no offense to him. You need a second opinion or otherwise you will be stuck in a loop of cuffing this poor man to nearby objects whenever you have doubts.”

They had a short, and polite, stare off for a few seconds before Peggy caved. 

“Fine. I still need to go to the office and find out their theories,” she bit on the inner side of her cheek before saying: “Ask Howard to come, do not tell him why. Once he is here, he is not to leave and if he even tries to get a drop of blood from this man, you are to tackle him.”

“Miss Carter!” he exclaimed.

“Mister Jarvis!” she snapped back. “Those are my terms.”

“Of course,” he said in his more usual polite tone, “very well, Miss Carter.” And he moved so she could pass.

\---

Howard Stark found it strange that he was making his way to ‘The Dump’, as he liked to call that particular house. He bought it on a whim, hoping that perhaps one day Brooklyn would be up and coming. As if. 

It had been gathering dust for the past decade, so he wasn’t sure why he would actually respond to Jarvis’s urgent request to inspect it. Not that he thought it would be bigger than perhaps an infestation of rats or a gas leak. He had suggested Jarvis to simply hire someone to check it but was reminded of various Project Rebirth files and equipment that was stored there. 

He hadn’t felt like himself since the ‘incident’ few weeks back. In that moment nothing felt more real than the realization that he had found Captain Rogers and seen his shield.

Sauntering down the street, he made sure that he wasn’t being followed before vanishing into an alley that appeared a dead end, except that it wasn’t. He grumbled while moving away the trash can, hating the smell and touch of it, before knocking on the hidden door.

“Mister Stark?” Jarvis asked with the door only an inch open. 

“Jarvis! Why the hell couldn’t you pick me up?”

“Sir, I do apologise.” The door opened and Howard immediately fled inside, ignoring Jarvis’s poor excuses. “- I must let you know that I had to promise Miss Carter to tackle you should the occasion arise.”

“Peg told you to do what?”

“Tackle you,” Jarvis repeated unnecessary, “sir.” 

Howard frowned, his moustache bristling. “In what world is my butler being ordered to tackle his boss?”

“This one, I’m afraid,” Jarvis said much quieter while Howard admired his own portrait in the hallway.

“Well then, what is the problem?” He handed over his jacket and hat. “Might be time we abandon this place, move everything to LA. What’ya say, Jarvis?”

“I don’t think you can move the current cargo anywhere, sir.”

He scoffed and made his way through the apartment. “What’s not to move? It’s all files, shield designs -” Jarvis followed him, trying to interrupt. “Some old equipment that we can reuse -” He went through several rooms before reaching a closed door and opened it. “My notes on Captain America -” Rooted to the spot, Howard gaped at the sight. “- and Captain America,” he finished, before promptly fainting.

\---

Steve missed having feeling in his right arm. Though watching Howard Stark faint, hit his head and being manhandled by Jarvis into an armchair was the funniest thing he had seen since his arrival. Tony would’ve snorted.  _ Tony _ , thinking about him felt like a stab to the heart.

“How are you, Captain Rogers?” Jarvis asked, ever so polite.

“Ready to be uncuffed,” he replied, “could also use a shower.”

Jarvis nodded understandingly. “I’m sure we can persuade miss Carter upon her return to give you some… leisure time.”

A grin spread on his face - he really entered a weird time. He really didn’t regret it. Now how to convince Peggy it really was him?

“How’s Howard?” He nudged his head toward the heap of man on the armchair. He had a nasty cut on his head that trickled blood down his forehead. Jarvis squeaked and left the room without saying anything. Steve hollered: “Might be better to look at that before -”

The door once again opened and Peggy, a vision as ever, stormed into the room.

“Absolute disaster!” she exclaimed, walking toward him threateningly before noticing the jumble of limbs formerly known as Howard Stark. “What - Howard? What did you do to him?” She snapped back to Steve, fire in her eyes. “Did you attack -”

“No! No, I’m still cuffed - I didn’t -” he spluttered.

“I’ve seen you do things far worse and more tied up, Steve Rogers -” She said his name, she called him Steve directly. The same ripple effect he felt earlier talking to her returned. He wasn’t sure what happened in the hours she had be gone, but hope blossomed in his heart. “What did you do to him?” she repeated.

“Ah, miss Carter,” Jarvis had returned with a bowl, a rag and some bandage. “Glad to see they have not arrested you.”

“Howard -” she exclaimed.

“Mister Stark had a bit of a lack of oxygen when he came to face to our… visitor.” Jarvis started to dab away the blood on Howard’s forehead. “Told you he’d be better than Colonel Phillips, imagine his heart,” he added pointedly.

“Mister Jarvis, we have a bit of a situation at hand -”

“I’d say so, Mister Stark wouldn’t want it to scar -”

Steve watched Peggy close her eyes as she quietly counted to ten to calm herself. 

“Peggy,” Steve said but she raised a finger to shush him. “What’s wrong?”

She turned around, approaching him with the light from the window surrounding her like a beacon. While she looked immaculate, she appeared rushed - like she left the office in such a scurry she cared for nothing else but to come here as quickly as possible.

“The good news is,” she said. “I am not a suspect of your escape.”

Steve sat up a bit straighter - handcuffed arm permitting - and wished he could reach out for her, pull her close.

“Are you -” she said, her voice was on the edge of trembling, “Are you Steve Rogers?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, the revelation surging through him like he was back at training camp and he watched her knockout Hodge.

The silence was deafening, broken by Howard making noises of life as Jarvis stopped looking at the wound and watched Peggy instead.

Her eyes were closed, right fist clenched and her left hand, Steve only noticed it now, clutching a manila folder. 

“Is this -” her voice now full on trembling. She refused to look at him. “Is this you?”

The folder was subsequently dropped on his legs, a single piece of paper drifting from it. Mostly blank, Steve held it up and felt all the blood drain from his face. 

 

[ SSR ]

[ CLASSIFIED ]

[ THREAT ] : [ ASSASSIN ] 

[ WHEREABOUTS ] : [ UNKNOWN ]

[ NAME ] : [ UNKNOWN ]

[ ALIAS ] : [ FIST OF HYDRA / WINTER SOLDIER ]

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now multi chaptered!


	2. Steve

**Steve.**

**Brooklyn Antiques (or the Strategic Scientific Reserve Brooklyn Facility). Late 1946**

 

Steve’s hand hovered over the fabric clad machinery. He should’ve known the safehouse wasn’t just a safehouse, but that the apartment was actually above the very place where Howard blasted him with Vita Radiation and he was created.

The place where Dr. Erskine had been shot.

He heard heels coming down the metal stairs and turned around to see Peggy approach with understandable apprehension.

“How’s Howard?” Steve asked. Howard had awoken when Peggy uncuffed him, but hadn’t spoken at all. He had just stared at Steve as he got to his feet, not blinking at all.

“He’s, well, I guess in shock.” A frown appeared on her otherwise tired-looking face. She must’ve slept as much as he had.  Keeping her distance, arms crossed and shoe toeing the dusty floor, she looked at him. Perhaps the first time really looking at him.

“I want to ask you,” she said, “but I don’t know if I want to know the answer.”

Steve could guess the question and knew he wasn’t ready to answer it either. Quickly he deflected: “Is Jarvis picking up -”

“Yes, he left after he was sure that Howard was stable.” Peggy hugged herself closer, squeezing her chest with her arms. “Steve, what -” She went quiet. A visible shudder travelled down her body and her question changed course.: “The - the SSR is convinced you are the Winter Soldier. That the Russians held you captive for the past year and a half and you have been following their orders.”

Steve nodded once.

“They think I’m your next target,” she added, now in a more business like voice. “Naturally I am on round-the-clock surveillance and there are agents stationed outside Stark’s mansion, where I am residing.” Her gaze at Steve was intense for a second before looking down at her nails. “They didn’t think to check the backdoor and my housemate Angie is very well protected, whilst pretending to be me.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he knew his face was nothing but proud. “So you don’t think I am him?”

“I don’t know who you are.” The retort felt like a stab and Steve flinched. “I think you are who you say you are. You are Steve Rogers, Captain America. Fought during the war besides the Howling Commandos,” a pause, “but you are also different.” To Steve’s surprise she actually _huffed_ in annoyance. “Because _my_ Steve Rogers would not have taken it so bloody _impassively_ when I mentioned I was living in _Stark’s mansion._ ” She threw up her hands in frustration only to place them on her hips. “I don’t know who you are!”

“Peggy -”

“No!” She pointed her finger accusingly. “Steve Rogers had no clue how to talk to a woman, he thought _fonduing_ was a synonym for something that made his ears _blush_ . He. Called. Me. A. _Dame_ ,” she said, each word with emphasis.

“I called you a beautiful dame,” Steve corrected, a crooked grin spreading on his face.

“Stop! Smiling!” Again she closed her eyes and counted to ten. “You are not helping your case.”

“Woah, come on,” Steve approached her - very carefully, “you’re telling me that you handcuffed me to a radiator because I was _flirting_ ?” She stared at him with a pout a two year old would be jealous of. “Peggy,” he said softly, reaching out to take her hand and let out a sigh of relief when she let him. “Trust me.” He placed her hand over her heart, sure that she could feel the rapid beat of his heart. “I’ve never been more nervous, more _flustered_ , as I am with you.”

She stared up at him, her fingers spreading and digging into his chest. For a moment they simply stood there, the way they did back in 1943.

\---

Howard’s head might have been bursting with pain, yet somehow he couldn’t feel it. He felt numb, unsure of what was real or not.

“Jarvis?” he croaked.

No answer.

Had he been kidnapped? He swore he had seen Steve Rogers being uncuffed by Peggy before he zoned out again. Last time he thought Steve was alive, he had been hypnotized to the point he didn’t know what was real anymore. Had he been hypnotized again?

“Peggy?” he called.

No answer - he must have imagined her too.

“Is anybody here?” His head started to pound through the numbness, followed by sheer panic. “Hello?”

Footsteps were coming down the hallway, his panic rose even further and he tried to look around for some kind of weapon.

“Mister Stark,” Jarvis - or was he? - said as he entered, “I do apologize, I had to give Captain Rogers his belongings.”

“Go away!” Howard yelled, taking the hallucinated Jarvis aback. “Where am I? This isn’t real!”

“Sir?” the hallucination sounded more than concerned.

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real -”

There was some stumbling in the hallway. Howard still tried to find a weapon or at least a way to snap out of the hypnosis.

“Howard?” Peggy’s voice said - no, she wasn’t real. He tried to will her away, but the man next to her made him shut his eyes again.

“He’s dead, he’s gone,” it was the mantra that got him out of the first trance, “he died -”

“Stark,” a voice he never thought of to have heard again said. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Leviathan,” both Peggy and Jarvis replied.

“We need to shock him out of thinking he’s hypnotized,” Peggy said. Howard squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. He was curled up in the armchair, hands tensed into fists and head pounding.

“He’s dead, he’s gone -” he continued to mutter.

“Give me that,” Peggy’s voice said, sounding closer to him and he began rocking back and forth. “Howard?”

There was a metallic clank and a hand forced his open. He felt something cold and smooth under his fingers, before they fully grasped the very real side of a shield.

\---

Despite handling the cold metal of the shield, Peggy still very much felt the warmth of Steve’s chest. They had been interrupted by Jarvis bringing Steve whatever he asked for him to fetch, which caused Jarvis to be even more apologetic than usual.

Steve took the single black and silver briefcase with gratitude.

“I, uh, hid this before your colleagues brought me in,” he explained, “it’s all I got.”

“What?” Peggy strode forward. “That’s all you own?”

“It’s all I brought,” Steve simply said, unclasping the case which showed an empty black insert. There were dimples big enough to hold a pebble, but whatever they had carried it was gone. Steve removed the insert, revealing a different insert - and this one wasn’t empty.

There was an assortment of empty vials, a weird bracelet that looked like a watch but wasn’t, something that looked like some kind of toy helicopter and several coin sized disks of which Steve took one, together with a slightly bigger disk that looked like a miniature version of his shield.

Peggy couldn’t help but stare at him like he was insane. Jarvis had quickly hurried away again after his awkward interruption and left them alone once more.

“What are these things?” she asked.

Steve swallowed visibly, like he was going to make an admission he’d rather not reveal.

“Peg,” he said, clasping the small shield and one of the round disks. “I want you to remember,” he sighed before continuing, gathering his thoughts, “that once upon a time, I went into a machine, in this very room, as a different version of myself. My actual self.” Walking toward her, he handed out the small shield which she took, slightly perplexed at where this was going. “I want you to remember that weird things happen. That a man with a red skull tried to take over the world, that dangerous weapons were created because of a glowing cube -” He stepped back, leaving her with the shield. “And that a much smaller man got injected with a serum -” he held up the disk he was still holding, “- and turned much, much bigger.”

He went on to throw the disk at the shield and Peggy gasped. The at first small shield that could fit in the palm of her hand suddenly expanded to its normal size, causing her to lose her balance and she barely managed to stay on her feet. Steve rushed forward to grab the shield, his hand hesitating for a second before holding her steady too.

“What -” she gasped heavily, but was cut off by a sudden: “Go away!” from upstairs and they both dashed.

\---

Steve looked on as Howard tested the weight of the shield, still trying to figure out if it was real or not. He wasn’t sure whether he should break it to him that this was actually not the original shield Howard once made for him.

After the last battle, his shield had been in pieces beyond repair. Or at least he kept saying that as Shuri tried to convince him she could build a new shield from it. One with latest tech and improvements, the same kinetic energy as she applied to T’Challa’s suit - he continued to say no.

“You’re going to need a shield,” It had taken Bucky to convince him. “From what you’ve told me during your last trip, there was some fighting involved.”

“With _myself_ yeah, and I had him on the ropes.”

“I know you did,” Bucky smirked. “But still, better to be safe than sorry.”

After finally saying yes, it had ended with Shuri storming out of the room in anger that she wasn’t allowed to make anything but the original. He had also needed a spaceship to navigate through the places for the power and soul stone. With the help from Hank Pym, to whom he did not mention he stole Pym particles from back in 1970, he ended up with a shrunken shield, a spaceship and more than enough disks to expand them back to normal size.

Before he knew it, he was ready to start his last mission, until the night before and Bucky entered his temporary quarters with nothing but a melancholic face and a manila folder.

“How did you survive?”

Steve snapped out of the memory at hearing Howard’s question. It was the question that had been silently bouncing between him and Peggy. He figured he could at least tell some of the truth.

“The serum in combination with a cryo freeze stabilized me.”

“But the plane -” Howard said softly, looking away, “I never found it. Who did?”

Steve cast his eyes down, this was not the way he wanted this to go.

“Howard, how about a cup of tea? And a painkiller for your head?” Peggy quickly interjected.

“Painkiller? Ouch -” Howard grimaced, only just remembering he had a cut on his head. Jarvis was in and out so fast, Steve had to be sure he wasn’t the actual AI in human form.

“We have other matters at hand,” Peggy continued, again business like, “mainly what we’re going to do about the SSR thinking Steve is an assassin.” She gave him a quick look before taking a seat herself on the couch. He could sit down next to her, easily - it was the only comfortable option as Howard was in the armchair. Of course, he didn’t want to risk getting the uncomfortable option of being cuffed again to the radiator, so remained standing. “We will need to establish where you have been the past year and a half.”

“Yes, where have you -” Howard tried again and hissed as Jarvis changed his bandage.

“I know we have a lot to discuss,” Steve said, “But I’d appreciate a shower, and some -” _sleep_. He mainly wanted to say sleep for Peggy’s benefit, though her eyes spew fire at the fact that he postponed the meeting. “I assume you need to appear from… Stark’s mansion tomorrow morning to go to work.” He may not have had reacted to it when she dropped it earlier, but he had definitely noticed.

“I’m sure I can sneak back in whenever,” she said stubbornly.

“Peggy, please -”

“You don’t get to give me orders, Steve!”

“I -”

“If I may,” Jarvis piped up, looking around nervously at the three pairs of eyes suddenly fixated on him. He cleared his throat. “If I may be so bold, in my opinion there has been a lot going on in the past twenty-four hours. There may be very little rest for the wicked, but as Captain Rogers is now safe and considered not a threat to either miss Carter or mister Stark, we can afford to nip out a few hours. I, personally, would very much like to see my wife.” He seemed to blush at the last admission, but since neither Peggy or Howard batted an eye that Jarvis would rather go see his wife than focus on an ongoing mission, Steve assumed this was the normal order.

“I agree,” Steve said encouragingly.

“Thank you, Captain,” Jarvis said, “So miss Carter, mister Stark - I can escort you both to desired destinations -”

“Steve can’t be left alone!” Peggy exclaimed.

“Miss Carter, you can go to the office tomorrow and perhaps find out a bit more what the SSR is trying to achieve with Captain Rogers -”

“I do not want Steve to be _alone_!” she now bellowed so loudly Howard dropped his cup of tea. Peggy was on her feet again.

Jarvis cleared his throat once more. “Not to be alone, miss Carter?” he said. “Or not to be _left_ alone?”

“Shut it, mister Jarvis,” she hissed, blushing a pretty pink shade that went down her neck and Steve felt a similar one creeping up his face.

“Am I secure here?” he asked Howard, who was trying to mop up the tea he spilt on himself.

“What? Oh yeah, I call this place the Dump. No one comes here.” Howard looked back up and froze again, like he still couldn’t believe he was really there.

“Well,” Steve said, “I will remain here. Alone, or not. And we discuss a plan tomorrow.”

“Today, actually,” Jarvis muttered. “It’s well past midnight. I was going to make Ana goulash…”

Steve couldn’t suppress a small grin. “Jarvis, go home.”

“Oh thank you, sir,” And he went on to make his way to leave.

“Hold on a minute!” Howard stood up from his seat. “You don’t take orders from him, Jarvis!” The four of them standing there in an abandoned apartment was an odd sight to behold for any outsider. Then Howard added: “Fine, drop off Peggy and go home. I will stay here with - with Steve.”

“Howard -” Peggy tried again yet her voice sounded like she knew she lost the battle.

It was settled. Though Steve wasn’t sure that everybody got the exact thing they wanted - except Jarvis who got to go see his wife. Peggy didn’t want to leave Steve, Howard had better things to do than babysit.

And Steve? Steve didn’t want to be alone with the only man who had been asking questions he didn’t want to answer.

\---

There were several reasons Peggy didn’t want to leave Steve. The main one was of course the matter at hand that he was a wanted man by the SSR. Second was that he could actually potentially be the Winter Soldier. And third… she was afraid that if she were to sleep and be away from him, he might not have been real.

Sneaking back into the mansion had been easy. The two agents on surveillance only had their lookout for a six foot tall, broad shouldered man. As expected Angie had played her role to perfection, she even went out to sleep in Peggy’s room to make sure that was the last light switched off and in that moment Peggy couldn’t even bother going elsewhere, promptly falling asleep next to her.

_"I've gotta put her in the water.”_

_“Steve, no, we can work this out. I-I'll call Stark; he'll know what to do.”_

_“Peggy, this is my choice..."_

“Steve?” She sat up straight, so suddenly awoken from her dream that she forgot to breathe for a second.

“Who’s Steve?” Angie murmured next to her, still mostly asleep.

“I -” Peggy bit her lip, Angie had begun to snore again. As far as she knew, Peggy was being surveilled because an assassin is looking for her. She didn’t tell her anything about Captain America still being alive.

Sluggish and with the nightmare still fresh on her mind, she went on to get ready and try to look presentable for a day of sleuthing to hear what the men have been deciding behind her back.

She barely had opened the door to leave when a hand grabbed the frame, pushed the door open and shut it behind them.

“Daniel -” Peggy yelped, startled. Agent Sousa secured the door, turning around to inspect his surroundings. “What on earth -”

“Is there anyone here?” he asked, his voice tensed.

“What - no, just Angie. Daniel, what is going on?” She stared at him worriedly and a panic rose that Steve had been compromised in any way.

“Good, that’s good.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been sent to escort you to the office,” he said, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbed the sweat off his forehead. “Thompson has a plan, and you’re not going to like it.” For a moment he stared at her, there was an edge of a plead in his face before he continued.

“It’s - it’s really _him_ , isn’t it?”

“Daniel, I don’t understand -” Peggy tried, but he cut her off.

“Don’t play me like a fool, if anything taught you this year, it’s that we need to keep each other informed. No sneaking around, okay?”

She didn’t answer. His gaze was penetrating and all she could do was give the slightest nod.

“I assume you’ve stowed him somewhere safe?” Another nod. “Is there’s a backdoor here you can leave through?” She nodded again. “Good, you’ll have to - you’ll have to warn him.”

“What is agent Thompson planning?”

Daniel sighed. “He wants to use you as bait.”

All Peggy could was blink. “I beg your pardon.”

“I’ve been sent to get you and set the plan in motion, the minute you step into the office you won’t leave without fighting your way out. I -” He was leaning on his crutch heavily. “I assumed you’d want to get a counter plan in place.”

Taking a deep breath, Peggy gathered her thoughts. She knew Daniel was right - if she decided to come with him to the office, her only way out was to let Thompson go through with his plan or she would have to fight her way out. And being on the run together with Steve and hide for the rest of their days was very much not the plan.

“And what will you tell Thompson when you get back without me?”

He shrugged. “That you’re ill, that you’re in a state or something - Peggy,” he took her hand and squeezed it, “I came to warn you. There isn’t much time. Thompson will persist his plan, you _know_ he will, but if you believe this man is not this assassin and is… and is Captain America.” Her heart broke for the sadness in his voice and she looked away quickly. Jarvis was right, there had been too much going on in the past two days.

“The clock’s ticking then,” she diverted.

Daniel shifted his weight. “I can give you this morning, before Thompson becomes antsy and will try to send someone else for you.”

“Thank you, Daniel.” She made ways to move but he grabbed even more hold of her hand.

“Please,” he said softly, “just be sure.”

Their eyes met once more and the only thought fleeting through her mind was _in a different life._

\---

Following the now familiar route to the safehouse, Peggy had tried to come up with a plan - not that it got her very far.

“Howard?” she called.

There were shuffles in the main living area. Expecting to find Howard and perhaps Steve discussing plans, she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight that met her. She had been right about Steve being there, but it wasn’t the Steve she had left behind during the night.

Clean shaven, hair trimmed and sporting what looked like a variation of his Captain America uniform, Peggy felt like she had stepped through time and she was back in the 107th base camp. He was holding a manila folder, pondering some thought before looking up and seeing her in the doorway.

“Peggy,” he said, “You’re early, is everything all right?”

Something shifted within her, something warm and familiar. They were back in Schmidt’s car, driving up to the Valkyrie - the very last time she saw his face. She wanted to kiss him now as much as she did back then.

“Peg?” He looked worried, with that hint of confusion that always carried on his face.

“Steve?” she whimpered, hiccuping. He was in front of her in two big steps, the manila folder discarded on the couch.

“Did something happen?” he asked, his arms hovering awkwardly like he wanted to touch her but also respect her boundaries.

In the end, she just felt it burst through her and tears rolled down her face.

“It’s been... _so long_.” As she placed her hand on the star on his chest, Steve took it as permission to wrap her in his arms, hands carefully caressing her back and whispering softly in her ear.

“I’m here, I’m okay, I’m sorry -”

\---

Peggy slapped him flat palmed on his chest, but he kept her close.

“I _mourned_ you,” she said muffled against his chest.

 _I mourned you too,_ Steve thought.  “I’m here, I’m sorry.”

A few minutes passed and Peggy’s soft sobs subsided. He had only dreamt of holding her like this and felt a pang of guilt that it had taken tears to get there. His lips hovered gently near her temple, almost leaving a soft imprint of a kiss.

Her breathing levelled out back to normal and they parted only slightly to look at another.

“Why -?” she asked breathlessly and gestured at his outfit. Steve bit his lip - in all honesty he was not happy being back in the suit.

“Howard, he has an idea - a plan,” he answered. Her gaze was now fixated on the manila folder he had been holding only moment ago.

“What’s that?”

Reluctantly he let go of her, striding back to the couch and picking up the folder. It was sealed heavily.

His breathing was shallow. He had thought he would’ve had more time before this moment, it had been on his mind up until the morning that he traveled back. The moment he decided to try and get that life Tony had mentioned. Knowing that things could’ve gone awry, he brought it as a backup.

He swallowed away his fear.

“Back on the plane, the last time we spoke…” He paused - he was not ready for this. “I told you that it was my choice.” Another hesitation followed at seeing Peggy’s face, she didn’t like reliving it as much as he did. “It was also my choice to come back.”

She sniffed, but kept quiet. He took it as a hint to continue.

“I felt like it would be unfair to you, to just waltz back into your life.” He tapped the folder nervously. “So I’m giving you the choice now.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Peggy, I can - I can go. I can _leave_ , if you want me to.”

Her stare was incredulous. “You only just got _back_.”

There were unspoken words - conversations even - floating between them, yet he could see in her eyes that she started to understand.

“You’ve been gone longer, haven’t you?” she stated, barely questioning it. “You’ve been through more than just the past eighteen months.”

“I have no right to expect any other welcome than you gave me,” his eyes flickered to the radiator, “but I was hoping, and I’ll have hope until you make your choice, that you give me a chance.”

“So what’s in there?” she asked, nodding at the folder.

He tightened his grip. “I can only give you this, if you ask me to leave.”

The silence that followed was broken by footsteps down the hallway.

“Found it!” Howard appeared in the doorway, holding up a pen. “My camera pen - oh, Peggy, I didn’t know you were here. You’re early, aren’t you?”

“Yes, we have a snafu at the office. Let’s sit and discuss.” Peggy’s face was a bit blotchy, but her voice was business as usual.

“Great, great,” Howard said absentmindedly, “first we need to take some pictures.”

“Pictures?” she asked. “Why?”

Steve winced at the words he knew were coming and Howard spread his arms, exclaiming happily:

“We’re telling the world that Captain America is alive!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks all for your support! Do leave a comment, I'm dying to find out where you guys think this is heading to
> 
> The, uh, rating might go up next chapter...


	3. We Can Go Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating updated accordingly.

**We Can Go Home.**

**Vormir. 2014**

 

Staring into the endless void, he kept the Soul stone clasped firmly in his hand. So this had been where Natasha had sacrificed herself. He had kept this stone last for a reason - he wanted to pay his respects and say goodbye to her.

It had been a bit of a shock when he was welcomed by Schmidt.

“Steven, son of Joseph,” he had said solemnly, “I have been expecting you.”

And while his first instinct had been to fight him, to take revenge for everything he had caused, Steve more or less felt too tired to even try.

“You are here to return the stone?”

“I am here to retrieve the cost,” he said, keeping the stone safely away from Schmidt. “She paid it, I’m here to return the stone and get her back.”

Schmidt seemed to have anticipated his statement as his cape flowed ominously around him. “I am afraid that was has been given cannot be given back. And you and I know, the stone must be returned to keep the flow of time.” Steve clenched his jaw. At least he had tried, raising his hand and holding out the stone. “I cannot take it either.”

“Then what?” Steve asked. “Do I just throw it there?” He nudged his head to the end of the cliff.

“No,” Schmidt sighed. “While you cannot retrieve the original cost, the Soul stone requires to give back which you love, in order for it to return above and await a new soul to be the cost.”

For a moment Steve simply stood there, perplexed. What on earth could that mean?

“You think you are at the end of a journey, Steven, son of Sarah, but the final destination is split two ways. You are to make up your mind, very soon.”

The stone lifted itself from his hand, the sky rounding into a portal above him before crashing down.

He awoke in a pool, uncertain as to how he got there, staring up at the sky and realizing his final mission was over. The stones had been returned, he could go home.

 _Home_.

\---

**New York Bell Company. 1946**

 

Daniel couldn’t help but quietly let out a sigh of relief when Peggy entered the office. She looked as tired as she did when he cornered her this morning, maybe even more with the addition of red eyes.

At least Jack didn’t seem to be suspicious of her, taking her demeanour as a sign that Daniel had told the truth when he showed up without her.

“Carter,” he said, nodding.

Peggy sniffed loudly in reply. He wasn’t sure if she was acting or not, and if she was - she was doing one hell of a job.

“Carter -” Thompson said too, except with less tact.

“Agent Thompson,” she acknowledged. “Any news?”

“Not a whiff.” He tossed the file he was holding onto the nearest desk and as it slid down, Peggy placed her hand on it. Her eyes flickered side to side, quickly reading it before placing it in the middle. Daniel’s gaze briefly met hers and he realized she was silently communicating with him.

“We need to draw him out,” Thompson continued. “There must be a reason why he showed up _now_ -”

“He’s been sighted!” An agent ran into the office, door slamming behind him. He was one of the younger ones. “These just got dropped off,” he added, handing Thompson an envelope from which spilled several photos.

“Who dropped them off?” he asked the agent. Daniel moved to be right behind him and looked over his shoulder. The pictures showed a man in Captain America’s uniform, standing in what looked like a warehouse.

“Intercepted by one of our agents at the newspapers,” the agent chirped.

“Good, we don’t want it to go citywide.” Thompson snapped his fingers and called all agents to him before handing out the photos. “Find out where this is.”

Daniel could feel Peggy’s eyes on him. She must know the location and he assumed it was the plan to go wherever he was stationed. It would’ve been too suspicious if she’d reveal immediately where it was, so he supposed it must be somewhere in the pictures.

“Could be one of the harbor warehouses.”

“Meatpacking district?”

The suggestions echoed around the office. Daniel kept his eyes on Peggy - she was waiting for someone to say the right one. He was sure she would give some kind of sign.

“What about Brooklyn? It’s where he was born, right?” the younger agent said, and Peggy gave the littlest of nods.

“That’s not a bad thought,” Daniel said immediately, but Jack seemed sceptic.

“Sounds too easy,” he said, “why has he been spotted now?”

Peggy diverted her eyes, before quietly saying. “Maybe he just wants to go home.”

One of the other agents had laid out a map of Brooklyn and everyone circled it, pointing at possible hideouts and talking over each other.

Daniel took one of the pictures. Knowing Peggy there must be a subtle hint where exactly where it was and indeed he spotted in the distance what looked like a tower.

“Rosario,” he said, knowing he could not be the one finding out exactly where it was, “you’re from Brooklyn, right?” One of the agents nodded and took the picture. “What’s that?”

“Looks like…” Rosario frowned in thought and Daniel willed that he was smarter than he looked. “Like a power plant.”

The agents surrounding the table went silent, before frantically skimming the map again, circling possible power plants as the location. Peggy cleared her throat for only Daniel to notice and laid a picture near one of the circles.

It was the power plant near the water and had a warehouse. It had to be the one and they both watched silently as Jack went through all options. He paused at the one laid out by Peggy, grabbing the photo and inspecting it closely.

“There’s a ship on this one,” he said, “It’s gotta be this one.” A pause and Jack huffed. “What are you all staring at? Get ready!” Another pause, before everyone started to scramble for their coats and arms.

Daniel, too, reached for his coat before a hand with red painted nails clasped around his wrist.

“Stay here,” Peggy said, lips barely moving and voice barely louder than breathing, “Help Howard.”

She walked away so suddenly, Daniel questioned whether it had even happened, but stayed put regardless.

“Carter!” Jack called. “Stay here.”

“I think not!” she replied, outraged. “If it is me he wants, he will go through you by any means. I need to be there.” She was playing on his bait plan, with success. “And if he is there as a diversion to get to me, I will only be more vulnerable here as he knows where the office is now.”

Jack’s face was pained in contemplation, but caved eventually.

“Let’s go!” he called.

\---

**Fleet Supply Base, Brooklyn**

 

Jack Thompson ignored the slight tremor in his hands as he raised the gun in front of him. His team had been circling the warehouses surrounding the power plant and were about to enter the final one. He had to either be here, or he must have left the area.

One of his fellow agents opened the door and they stalked in.

“Freeze!” someone yelled. Jack felt his heart beat in his throat as in the middle of the warehouse the man stood perfectly still. He had his back to him, but Carter, who was entering from the other side, faced him. She had her gun aimed, her face focused and then frowned.

“Get on the floor!” Jack instructed, but the man didn’t move.

“Jack -” Carter said, lowering her gun slightly. “I don’t think -” Shots echoed in the room. Immediately everyone raised their guns up to where the shots came from.

“Take cover!” was shouted as more shots were released. One of the bullets went straight through the back of Captain America. Jack ducked behind a crate as the shots ricochet off the floor. He watched as the Captain collapsed onto the floor, straight as a board.

Carter was still standing tall, shooting at the supposed location where the shooter was. Her face was focused with a hint of being alarmed.

“Carter!” he yelled. “Take _cover_!” She ignored him as usual. “Marge!” Another shot. His heart pounded even higher in his throat as she gasped, dropping her gun. A stain of red was pooling on her cream-colored dress at her side.

“ _Peggy!_ ” His voice cracked. He wanted to move, but remained frozen on the spot. Carter tried to reach for her gun, her hand pressed against the wound as she struggled to breathe.

Out of nowhere someone was running across the room. A tall man, running faster than Jack had anyone seen run, shielding himself from the shots with a red, blue and white shield that was undoubtedly Captain America’s.

“No!” Jack bellowed as the man scooped Peggy into his arms, shielding them both from the shooter and running out of the warehouse. Jack could only watch as they disappeared from view.

The shooting stopped abruptly.

“Check the higher levels!” someone ordered.

“Chief?” An agent had approached him. “Chief, are you hurt?”

The feeling of numbness still took hold of his body. He knew he was standing up, but he wasn’t sure how he got to that point. He felt entirely separated and far away as he walked up to the lifeless body that was in the middle of the room.

 _They took Carter_ , he thought, _but who were they?_

He kicked the body to its back and all the breath he was holding evaporated. It wasn’t Captain America wearing the suit, he realized. It had been a dummy. Some cheap mannequin from a department store.

He could only assume that the man they were after shot and took Carter.

“I need all agents,” he said, regaining his voice, “it was a diversion.”

\---

 

**Brooklyn Antiques (or the Strategic Scientific Reserve Brooklyn Facility)**

 

Steve kicked the door to the living area with such force, he was sure he kicked it out of its hinges. The base they had set up as the place to lure out the SSR agents had been closeby. All they really needed was a few hours so Howard, Jarvis and a man named Sousa could remove any files the SSR had on him and his whereabouts.

Steve had watched the agents arrive, ready to step in just in case things went awry. And then it did.

The shooter had completely taken him by surprise, and watching his suit get shot right where his heart should’ve been made him gulp. He had only known one person to take such a sharp shot.

He had wanted to run up to the shooter at first and had been ready to scale the stairs.

But then he watched Peggy get shot.

Without hesitation he had changed his course, carrying her all the way back to the reserve - even taking a diversion route just in case the shooter was following. He had just hoped he hadn’t wasted any time.

“Steve?” Peggy hissed in pain.

He took her to the one bedroom he had been staying at the past few days, lowering her onto the bed. One side of her dress was red with blood.

She fumbled with the front buttons for a second. Without hesitation Steve grabbed the collar and ripped the dress clean in half before discarding it. He did the same with the satin underdress. It wasn’t until she had been reaching for the back of her longline bra that he realized what she was about to do.

He froze, eyes gliding unintentionally down the peach coloured satin bra. She was wearing matching satin knickers that sat at her waist and ended high on her thighs, where the taunt clasps of her suspender belt she wore underneath kept up her stockings. His mouth went dry.

“Steve?” She sounded far away, white noise taking over the space between his ears. “God _sake_ , Steve! Now is not the time!”

She huffed, slapping him hard on the chest and regretting it instantly as pain shot through her side. Of all the moments she had been begging to see her old familiar and flustered Steve, it had been the _worst_ timing.

Steve finally snapped out of it, taking a step back. “What - what can I -”

“Bowl of water, towels, bandages - there must still be some from Howard’s wound,” she gritted through her teeth. He didn’t need anymore instructions before he had fled the room. “Bloody hell,” she added, looking down at the wound.

It wasn’t deep - she knew what deep shot wounds were like. The bullet had simply grazed her side, but the wound did cleaning and it was right underneath the lower lining of her brassiere. She sighed. Steve was just going have to suck it up.

With great difficulty she undid the hooks, throwing the blood stained piece of underwear at the rest of the ruined clothes. She scooted to the edge of the bed, sitting up and kicking off her shoes. With one arm she held herself up from the bed, the other she kept her breast covered for her - and apparently Steve’s - modesty.

It, however, didn’t keep Steve from freezing in the doorway at the sight.

“Steve, please -” she begged. “Or leave it and I’ll do it _myself_.”

“No, no,” Steve muttered, rushing forward and placing the bowl of water on the wooden floor and the bandages and towel on the bed. He knelt in front of her and swallowed audibly. Something warm spread down her chest.

“I don’t think it needs stitches,” she quickly said, diverting herself from giving into the warm feeling. She shifted so was leaning to the left and gave him a clearer view of the wound. Carefully he dipped the towel into the bowl of water and with the gentlest touch he wiped away the blood from her skin.

She couldn’t help but hiss as he cleaned the wound and he murmured soothingly: “Almost done.” There was still the faintest hint of a blush lingering on his cheeks and he was so nearby that she could smell him. He pressed a clean cotton ball against the wound, reaching for the roll of bandage with his free hand as the other cupped her side.

Her breathing began to hitch, the intakes turning sharper. His hand was warm and big. And even though he was pressing the cotton ball against the wound, the fingers touching her exposed skin felt hotter. She heaved her breast higher, not missing how quickly his eyes darted to them as she did, so he could easily wrap the bandage below them.

There was the slightest tremor in his hands as he continued to wrap the bandage around to keep it in place. His thumb brushed the side of her breast only slightly and they both inhaled sharply.

It was quite the sight, Peggy realized, Steve kneeling between her legs. She had only imagined it during the latest hours at night and felt her nipples harden against her arm at the memories.

“All done,” he murmured softly, tying the bandage up. “Is that okay?”

She moved to make sure it was tight, regretting it instantly as Steve moved to stand up and quickly grabbed his arm with the one she had been leaning on. “Wait -”

“What’s wrong -” He never got the chance to finish his sentence, her lips cutting him off. In unison they breathed in deeply through their noses, their lips locked in a much overdue kiss. He chased her lips as she pulled away, kissing her again and seemed not to know what to do with his hands, causing them to hover awkwardly.

Both her hands cupped his jaw and she forced him to deepen the kiss, exposing her breast. With a gasp he pulled away, heaving as he tried to regain his breath. His lips were swollen and he had never looked as beautiful.

Peggy placed both arms behind her, leaning on them and not caring her chest was on full display. In fact - she wanted him to look. She felt powerful and vulnerable all at the same time as she pulled her shoulders back and her chest perked higher. There was a restraint in Steve’s face that she had never seen before, their eyes locked as he tried to stay strong and not look down.

“Tell me,” he said huskily, “tell me to stop.”

He kept his eyes firmly on her face, but one of his hands was hovering over the swell of her left breast. It was so close she could feel the heat radiating from it. Just as he was about to touch it, she said: “Don’t.” He froze, hand still where it had been. She bit her lip, eyes darting over his face, his neck, his chest - damn, he was beautiful. “Don’t stop,” she breathed.

There was a moment where Steve looked like he wasn’t sure he had heard her. A frown between his eyebrows as he swallowed. Peggy couldn’t help but roll her eyes and firmly grasped the hovering hand with hers and placed it around her breast.

Finally - _finally_ \- he looked down. Experimentally he squeezed softly, making her gasp and his thumb grazed her hard nipple.

“ _Peggy_ ,” he breathed and crouched down to capture her lips into another kiss. He didn’t stop at her lips, peppering kisses down her jaw and throat. She threw her head back, her curls falling down her back like a waterfall. After sucking at a particular spot underneath her jaw, Peggy let out the smallest moan, which only seemed to motivate him more.

His hand slid down her side, carefully avoiding the bandage, and hooked his thumb under the waistband of her knickers. He looked up as she moved to see why he stopped, his face less than an inch away from her breast, quietly asking for permission as they kept eye contact. She didn’t even know what he was asking for, nor did she want him to stop, so she nodded for him to continue.

Everything happened at once - his mouth closed over her left nipple, making her moan loudly, and he pulled the knickers down, revealing her suspender belt and the small tuft of brown curls between her legs.

She pushed her body up, the knickers swiftly pulled down further and pooled around her knees before being kicked off entirely, and a strong hand cupping the mount of soft hair.

“ _Steve_ ,” she gasped, “Oh - _oh -”_

Of course Peggy had thought of laying with a man before - in particularly Steve during the days of war - but she never quite imagined this. Never in her wildest dreams had she envisioned Steve exploring her there with his _fingers_. Even more so - she had never even thought about Steve kissing down her soft stomach before spreading her legs wider and burying his face between them.

She yelped, squeezing her legs around his head out of reflex, and moaned when she felt his tongue lap at her wetness. Steve hummed and gave particular attention to a spot that made her body quiver.

Her fingers grasped a handful of golden hair and she tugged. She allowed herself to glance down, almost collapsing at the sight. Steve Rogers was between her stocking clad legs, sending sparks all over her body. His hand reached up to cup her breast and his other held her thigh in place.

The muscles in her stomach started to contract as her moans echoed around the room. She felt like she was chasing something and she moved her hips experimentally. Steve’s hand grounded her before she even got an inch off the bed and his tongue went on even more enthusiastically before his mouth sucked on the sensitive spot.

Her entire body tensed, followed by a climax rippling all over - spreading from between her legs all the way to her toes and fingertips.

She was breathing heavily and collapsed limbless onto the bed. Soft kisses were placed on her inner thigh before Steve sat up onto his knees. He was delectably dishevelled, lips swollen and cheeks pink.

“Fucking hell,” she swore, hand reaching to comb a lock of hair out of her face. Steve chuckled quietly. “Did you - have you done that… before?” she couldn’t help but asking, her heart hammering against her rib-cage.

Steve looked down and shook his head. “Um no.”

“Then how -”

“I, uh, saw it in a movie -”

Peggy looked up at the ceiling. “What on earth are they showing in movies these days -” She didn’t have much time to question it further before she came down to feeling cold. A shiver went down her body and the wound started to pulse painfully. She glanced at the heap of ruined clothes - had Steve actually ripped her dress effortlessly?

Steve followed her gaze before standing up and unbuttoning his shirt. “Here,” he said, shrugging it off and revealing a tight white vest underneath. But that wasn’t what Peggy was staring at.

A very prominent bulge was strained against his slacks.

Her mouth went dry.

He, however, didn’t seem to have noticed and began to dress her in his shirt that was still warm from his chest. Unintentionally she moved her knee slightly up, grazing the bulge only barely but enough to make Steve gasp.

“Um,” he hesitated for a moment, “... you should get some sleep.” He stood up again.

“But -” She kept her eyes fixed on the bulge. “I -”

Still feeling legless, she couldn’t fight him even if she tried as he tucked her into the bed. Her eyelids felt heavy and with a final lingering kiss on the lips, she promptly fell asleep.

\---

Peggy woke after what must have been only a few hours later. The wound throbbed slightly, but not as much as the rest of her body. Time to explore this new feeling, unfortunately, she did not have as low voices took her back to reality.

She had been shot by an unknown shooter. A shooter who went for Steve’s dummy at first.

Carefully she left the bed, fully realising she was just in Steve’s shirt and stockings, and went down the hall to listen to what they were saying.

“What is his plan?” Steve’s voice asked.

“It’s a manhunt, the plan was to make it look like you were a hoax,” Howard replied, “embarrass the SSR into erasing this ever happened.”

“He thinks you kidnapped her,” Daniel’s voice said and Peggy was surprised to hear him. “He went public.”

“I don’t care,” Steve replied, “all I care is that Peggy got _shot_. We need to find out by who.”

She reached the door.

“Captain, sir -” Daniel said, “they were aiming at _you_.”

“She needs to be safe -”

“ _She_ -” Peggy opened the door, knowing damn well she was barely dressed. “- doesn’t like to be talked about while she is not there.”

All men there - including she now realized Mister Jarvis - jumped up. She could feel them all quickly assess her state and saw the knowing and angry look Howard threw at Steve.

Steve, however, leapt toward her and offered an arm to lean on, which she promptly ignored.

“Status report,” she commanded. “Now.”

Her eyes locked with Daniel’s, whom swallowed and looked away just as he did weeks ago before she was sent on a mission.

“Peggy, you’re hurt -” One look at Steve and his mouth snapped shut. He had changed clothes and had a flustered look about him. He was even wearing different trousers.

Howard, still looking quite angrily at Steve, stepped forward and was holding a newspaper. “We managed to remove all files related to Rogers, everything went according to plan until the apparent shooter. Agent Sousa was there when the agents returned.” They all turned to him.

“Thompson started a new operation immediately. He figured out all files were removed, but it didn’t stop him -” He nodded at the newspaper Howard was holding, whom showed it to Peggy. “Cap’s a wanted man.”

And the big black letters on the front page confirmed that, together with a sketch of Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How 'bout that? *finger guns*
> 
> Steve Rogers watched porn in the 21st century, you can't change my mind.


	4. Imagine It

**Imagine It.**

**Brooklyn Antiques. 1946**

 

Howard knew his moustache must be bristling. 

The newspaper he took back from Peggy made a crunching noise as he gripped it a bit too tight, watching Steve and Peggy exchange a blushing look. Jarvis cleared his throat and said something along the line that he was to find Miss Carter some clothes and Sousa had continued to focus on Howard’s painting on the wall.

“I’ll need to go to the office,” Peggy said. 

“You can’t,” Sousa interjected.

“Why not?” Peggy asked with a hiss, placing her hand against her side. Steve was next to her in seconds and she batted away the hand he was holding up for her to keep herself up. Unlike earlier Steve didn’t give up as easily and finally Peggy caved into being led into the armchair. “I can just appear, show Thompson I am not kidnapped and everything is tickety boo.” 

“Apart from the fact that you got _shot,_ ” Howard said. “A shooter who knew exactly where to be even though we only leaked the location to the SSR.”

Peggy turned to Sousa. “Did the SSR find anything at the warehouse?”

“Just the suit, which is now at the offices. Thompson assumes they are with the Captain, the last of the Hydra operatives. He does not suspect a spy within the SSR.”

She groaned. “So he’s out there saying all his plans out loud.” Taking in a deep breath, she said: “We’ll have to lure him here without anyone noticing and explain.”

Howard shook his head. “He’ll try to arrest Steve in an instant.”

“He’d have to go through a lot of people,” Sousa said dryly. 

Steve moved away from Peggy - with noticeable difficulty - and grabbed a manila folder from the table. “I might have an incentive that Agent Thompson would appreciate.”

“Is that -” Peggy started, but Steve shook his head.

“No, that one is safely stored.” He gave a weak half smirk. Howard had no idea what they were talking about. Steve turned to Sousa. “Do you think you could unnoticeably lure Agent Thompson elsewhere?” 

“I can try, is there a phone here?”

“Down the hallway,” Howard said - he hadn’t added one to each room in this house - and Sousa grabbed his cane and went down the hall, leaving Howard with two very much blushing friends. “So,” he clapped his hands, “not to beat around the bush here, but do you guys need the _talk?_ ”

“Howard!”

“ _Stark!”_

“All I’m saying is that among us here, I will most likely have the most experience. I can tell you all about the birds and the bees -” If Peggy’s eyes actually could shoot daggers, Howard would have been stabbed multiple times. Steve had sunk into the couch, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. “All I’m saying,” Howard repeated. “I’m -”

“Put a sock in it, Howard,” Peggy snapped and he put up his hands in defeat.

“Fine.” He eyed Steve instead. “So what’s in the folder?”

Steve sighed before answering. “Knowledge.” Howard perked up. The first night that he and Steve had been alone, he couldn’t have helped but feel like Steve was hiding a world of secrets. Not to mention that occasionally during that night, he had been giving Howard odd looks. Some looks of sorrow, some of anger. There were things Steve knew or had acquired during his time away, like how he insisted not to actually reveal to the world that Captain America was alive because - his words - “It just doesn’t happen.”

“Knowledge about what?” Peggy asked, and again hissed - followed by a yawn.

“You should get some more rest,” Steve quickly deflected, getting up and helping her do so too.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, nevertheless gratefully accepting his arm. They gave each other once again a certain look that Howard had seen countless times from many women. Except the way they did it, it seemed deeper. And mutual.

He rolled his eyes and knew he was in for suffering their lovey-dovey smiles for the long run.

\---

Steve carefully helped Peggy back into the bed, fully aware that she could manage on her own. Something in him just wanted to touch her at any given moment. His mouth went dry at remembering how she looked mere hours ago. The flush that had graced her skin, the rapid breathing that made her chest heave and her curls sprawled on the sheet as she had reached her climax.

He hadn’t planned for it, far from it in fact. The general idea he had was to take her out properly, date her - _woo_ her and then perhaps at some point... 

Something gnawed at him that he had moved too quickly. But just as he went to tuck her in, Peggy pulled him down into a kiss. They broke a part with a soft smacking noise, Steve dumbfounded once again and staring at her lips.

Peggy laughed, it was the best sound he had ever heard even though she was laughing at him.

“One day I hope you will not look like a startled puppy after I kiss you,” she said, still smiling. 

He looked down, blushing. “Guess we’ll have to practise.” Leaning back, dropping to his knees and staring at her. A soft vision of Peggy at an older age in a nursing home came to mind. _None of us can go back_ , yet he did. _The best that we can do is to start over,_ he had done that quite literally.

He took a deep breath, remembering when he got a text that she had gone, and froze. 

“Peggy,” he said, taking her hand. She had drifted into sleep and he shook her a bit more urgent. “Peggy, get up.”

Her eyes opened with the alertness only a trained agent could possess. “What’s wrong?”

Steve inhaled again and knew for sure. “Something is burning.”

It had been faint, maybe only he could smell it thanks to the serum, but there was a fire and it was nearby. Peggy didn’t hesitate, jumping out of the bed.

There was no visible smoke in the bedroom. Neither in the hallway where they ran into Sousa, who seemed to realize something was the matter.

“There’s -” Steve began, but his eyes had fallen on the door to the lab. Smoke was billowing in small slithers underneath. _No,_ he thought. Panic rose in his throat - his briefcase was there with his everything, including his Time GPS. “We need to leave.” He moved past Peggy and Sousa to the door. The doorknob was white hot as he opened it and smoke filled the hallway in abundance. 

“What’s going on?” Howard’s voice appeared, followed by coughs. 

“Lab’s on fire,” Steve said, unnecessarily, and made to move into the lab before a hand grabbed his wrist.

“Are you insane?” Peggy hissed. “Steve, we need to _go_.”

Steve was at a loss for words - he needed his case. It was his way back in case Peggy chose against him. What if she rejected him in time and he’d had to live out his life without her but so close to her?

Howard appeared next to her. “Peggy, get out.” He turned to Steve. “We need to go, there’s an old vat of vita radiation there - if the fire reaches it -” Short bursts of explosions sounded and Steve freed his wrist from Peggy’s grip, who tried again but failed to grab it back. 

“Steve!” she yelled after him as he raced through the smoke into the lab. He needed to just get the case and get out. Reaching the top of the stairs, he held onto the rail. The entire place was burning. Fire was licking at every surface and the floor was invisible through the smoke. 

Something heavy dropped from his throat into his stomach.

He didn’t want to accept it, part of him wanted to dive into the sea of flames and find the case. Surely Banner had made it fireproof - it had been to _space_. Just as he was about to make up his mind and go for it, a voice pulled him away.

“Steve!” Peggy called in the distance. He looked over his shoulder, torn between two decisions, one of which was about to become permanent. 

\---

Peggy was trying to usher Howard and Daniel to the exit, except either seemed keen to follow Steve into the lab. Then again - so was she. Finally both men stepped away from the lab door, scurrying toward separate rooms that both weren’t the exit.

The smoke became unbearable and she sank to the floor. Knowing she had to make her way out, she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving without Steve. 

After what seemed ages, but was likely barely a minute, a shadow came running through the smoke. Steve halted, bending down and helping her up.

“Stark and Sousa are outside?”

“N-no,” she coughed, “I don’t -” Something shiny appeared in the corner of her eye and Howard came running with Steve’s shield. More explosions made the floor vibrate. “Where’s Daniel?” she asked.

“I thought he was with you!” Howard said, grabbing her hand and leading her to the exit. 

“Steve!” she hollered over her shoulder, but Steve was already making his way through all the rooms trying to find Daniel. She was worried that due to his cane it might be difficult for him to navigate.

Still breathing in copious amounts of smoke, the light of the sun setting was a godsend and both she and Howard ran into the street, coughing violently. She didn’t care that she was still in just stockings and Steve’s shirt, all she wanted was for him to be safe. 

Just as her heart started to beat higher up her throat, both Daniel and Steve came through the door into the alley. Steve was supporting Daniel, who was clutching the manila envelope Steve had shown a mere half an hour ago.

Steve quickly left Daniel with Howard on the curb and Peggy knew he was about to run back in for heaven knows what, so she put her foot out and tripped him.

“What -” he gasped, looking back at Peggy with a mixture of horror and fear. “Peggy, I need -”

But what he needed he couldn’t tell. The force of the exploding building lifted them both off the ground and into the street.

\---

**Stark Mansion (The Upper East Side one)**

 

Clad in a pair of men’s trousers and an oversized shirt, Peggy was pacing the large bedroom. While it wasn’t the master bedroom - Howard was currently resting there - it was still of considerable size. 

In the end it had been Jarvis who had pulled up just after the explosion, assessing their states of injuries before hoisting them into the car. Covered in ash, bruises and bits of debris, they were clutching each other and drove to another of Howard’s houses. Sousa had insisted to be dropped off at his own home before he proceeded to get Agent Thompson to meet them. In the time that they drove, a quick plan had been made. It was a mad one, but overall a very… Howard one.

Gratuitously once inside, Steve had let Peggy freshen up first. He had barely spoken a word. And after she had washed everything off, replaced the bandage on the wound and changed into some of Howard’s clothes, Steve had gone into the bathroom, turned on the tap and shut the door.

Peggy could still hear the tap running, but no other movements were coming from behind the door. Which was when she started to pace.

A few minutes later without as much as audible shuffle, Peggy made up her mind and knocked softly.

“Steve?”

No answer.

Carefully she tried the doorknob, exhaling as it turned, and opened the door. Steve stood hunched over the sink, leaning heavily on its sides while the tap ran. He had taken off his shirt at least, now wearing a sleeveless undershirt and his trousers. His forearms were still blackened by ash.

“Steve?” she croaked. “Are you all right?”

He acknowledged her briefly, his head turning to look over his shoulder but his gaze not quite meeting hers. 

“What can I do?” she tried. Tentatively, she reached out and placed her hand on his warm back. He sagged a bit at her touch, but still remained staring down at the running tap.

“I messed it up,” he said softly. 

“Messed what up, darling?” The endearment was almost accidental, but it felt like the truest thing. 

“I - I was selfish.” He took a deep breath. “I thought… just once that I could. That I could be selfish, and look where it took me?” He turned around and leaned back on the sink, eyes stubbornly focused on the floor. “Where it got you?”

Peggy let her hand fall limply aside her. “Steve, what are you talking about?”

He huffed. “I’m back for five seconds and look,” he gestured at her side, “I got you shot.”

With an incredulous look, Peggy scoffed at him: “Steve Rogers, I am perfectly capable of getting shot myself, thank you very much. I think you forget what kind of career path I follow. People will shoot at me whether or not you are nearby.”

The slightest quirk of a smile played on his face before it faltered again. “The lab -”

“We’ll get to the bottom of it,” she reassured. “Here.” She reached over and switched off the sink’s tap. “Why don’t you clean up a bit?” Steve didn’t move, so she took it upon herself to switch on the bath’s tap and waited for the water to heat up before pushing in the plug. She eyed the bath, then looked up at Steve and couldn’t resist a soft chuckle. Whilst Howard hadn’t spared any expenses, the bath looked positively miniature to Steve. 

“What were you trying to save?” she asked quietly, folding up a cloth and dipping it in the water. “Was it your briefcase?”

“I lost it, Peg,” he sighed. She thought of the manila folder he showed her. _I’m giving you the choice now._ What on earth was there to choose? Gently she dabbed the wet cloth on his arm. The hairs scattered on his forearm appeared golden as she washed away the soot. “I - I wanted to go back and get it. It’s my only connection to… to where I had been. It’s… silly.”

Peggy turned around to switch off the tap as the bath had filled and readjusted the waistband of the trousers.

“It’s not silly,” she said softly, “few weeks back I got in a spot of trouble.” Chewing on the inside of her cheek she continued: “I had the opportunity to leave New York straight away, but I decided to return to my apartment to grab one thing.”

Their eyes finally met as he looked at her inquiringly. “And what was that?”

“A vial,” she said, picking up the cloth again. “Of your blood.” His lips parted only slightly, Peggy bit hers. “I guess we both would run into the fire to stay connected to the past.”

The silence settled and just as about Peggy was to suggest that Steve should get into the bath, he said: “I’m still giving you the choice.”

“What is there to choose?” she huffed.

“I - I don’t want to force, I just… I just don’t have anything to give in return anymore. I can’t leave -”

“And I don’t want you to leave!” She cupped his jaw, the cloth falling from her hand, and forced him to look at her. “I’ve tried to say goodbye to you, tried to move on.” Tears welled in her eyes. “That vial? I emptied it into the river, thinking I could finally let you go. I tried to tell Howard that you were _dead_ as he was hypnotized, convinced that you were out there somewhere. But even as I told him, _I_ really was the one who needed convincing.” Peggy sniffed. “Because deep down I knew I was lying every time I told myself you were _dead_.”

“Peg -”

“And then you showed up! And _yes_ I handcuffed you to a radiator and _yes_ we’ve been shot at, and someone blew up our hideout and there are things you are hiding that I am scared to ask about. But I know that you took the opportunity to come back,” she couldn’t control her lower lip as it trembled, “now... I don’t know what you left behind, and I am sure it was hard to part with. But I sure as hell know that if I was given the opportunity to be with you - whether it was a day after you crashed, now or in five or twenty five years - I would’ve taken it.”

\---

Steve swallowed. Her words both warmed and alarmed him. 

He thought of Bucky, who gave him the manila folder that Sousa so courageously rescued from the lab. 

“This may be handy,” Bucky had said, handing him the folder. “Figured you might not want to run into me at certain points in history.”

“What’s this?” Steve asked, opening it and stopping in his tracks. “Buck, why would I need this?”

“A precaution.” Bucky toed the carpet with his foot. “Or maybe a request? I - I spoke to Banner, he told me about everything that happened when you traveled that didn’t happen in our past created a new timeline. I mean, you don’t remember fighting yourself, do you?”

Steve frowned. “I don’t.”

“And you told yourself I was alive -”

“I needed him to let me go! It was just a diversion.”

“And you really think that you wouldn’t have started your quest to find me as soon as you regained consciousness?” He smirked. “C’mon now, Stevie - in that timeline you must have rescued me a good few years earlier.”

Steve gripped the folder a bit tighter. “So what are you asking me?”

Bucky placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Go home, just think about all the things you could do, if you choose to stay.”

 _Home_. “You’re part of my home,” he said and then blurted: “Come with me?” 

Raising his vibranium arm, Bucky shook his head. “I may be free from the words in my head, but I don’t think I could live through it. What if they find me? What if _I_ find myself?”

“I can -”

“Steve, your war is over,” he insisted, “you deserve it. Give it a try.”

Bucky had left after that, shoulders hunched. Looking back at the folder, Steve thought of all the things he could change with this knowledge, but then also remembered that while Bucky knew he was out there in the past - what was Steve going to do about himself?

“Water is getting cold,” a voice said. He was still lost in thought as he went to take off his undershirt. It wasn’t until Peggy gasped that he remembered where he was. “I’ll - I’ll just -” she flushed, which was a nice change to how she made fun of him when he was so flustered yesterday. 

He couldn’t help but grin slightly as he reached for his belt buckle. With a squeak, she covered her eyes with her hand and turned around. 

“I’ll leave you to it then -” she shuffled toward the door but Steve grabbed her free wrist. His other hand found her waist and he gently pulled her against him. There was something very… _modern_ about her wearing the trousers and the shirt. Her hair was damp and resting on her shoulders. He pressed his face in the crook of her neck and breathed in deep.

“You can stay,” he murmured.

“That - that would be highly inappropriate -” she spluttered.

“Of course,” he kissed her neck, “We would be square if you’d stay. After yesterday, I mean.” He couldn’t see her blush, but he felt her temperature rise a few degrees. “Your call...” He moved away, releasing her wrist. “But I could use the company.”

Peggy remained where she was, stiff as a board. She seemed to be contemplating his offer. As noisily as he could, he took off his slacks and socks. Dressed in only his briefs, he picked up the cloth and dipped it back in the water.

His face was still a bit grimy with sweat and ash, and he sat down on the edge of the bathtub, bringing the cloth up to wash it away. At hearing a sharp intake of breath, he knew Peggy had turned around. 

“I’ll keep the briefs on,” he said, shifting to the side and lowering his legs into the water. A groan escaped his mouth and he slid down. He could barely stretch his legs, knees poking through the surface of the water which only came halfway up his abdomen. 

Hesitantly Peggy took over his place on the edge of the tub, eyes persistently diverted from him. 

“I’m -” she started, swallowing, “I’m sorry you lost the briefcase.” He suddenly felt cold again. “I may not understand where you’ve been, or how - how long it’s been, but from what I gather you’ve lost a big deal.” She peeked over her shoulder to find him looking at her questioningly. “I can see it in your eyes.”

He lifted his hand from the water and raked through his hair. “I don’t really know what to say to that.”

She placed a towel on her lap and took his hand from his hair onto it, stroking it. “So why did you decide to come back now?”

He stared at her back, his arm resting comfortably on her lap - his fingers would be sprawled on her thigh if it wasn’t for the towel. 

“There was a war,” he couldn’t believe he was talking about it, “multiple in fact.”

She sighed. “I guess some things don’t change.”

“I guess,” he said, “but in other ways the world did change. I wasn’t sure exactly when I decided to… to come back. The idea came gradually, with some encouragement.”

“From someone… special?” Peggy asked stiffly, hand still on his wrist.

He shifted in the tub, water sloshing against the sides. “I had friends, yes.”

“You must have been quite close,” she continued, still stiffly, “you seem… so much more experienced. And confident.” It dawned on Steve what she was trying to ask and he rested his head to the back of the tub. “I’m not accusing you or anything -”

He retracted his arm from her lap and placed both on the edge next to her, resting his chin on his hands as he twisted his body. “Peg,” he said, but she kept her eyes on the wall. “Peggy, look at me.”

She glanced at him from the side. “Well?”

“There was a period - before I had the chance to come back - where everybody told me to move on. Start a new life. There even was a time I was telling people to try to do the same. You told me that you didn’t want to believe I was gone? Well,” he sighed, “guess we think alike.”

Peggy was quiet. Steve leaned back into the tub.

“Check my pockets,” he said with a nod to the discarded pants on the floor. Hesitating for a moment, she eventually reached down and went through both his pockets. The compass was clutched in her hand as a shudder visible went over her body. “I’ve always kept it on me.”

She opened the compass, looked at the picture of herself and let out a huff. “You know you never told me where you got this picture.”

Steve laughed and was about to answer when Howard’s voice filled the adjacent bedroom. 

“Hey lovebirds, our friend Agent Thompson is here.” Peggy closed the compass with a snap. “He’s unconscious though,” Howard added, voice sounding right behind the door, “and also handcuffed.” Another pause. “He’s also the right height.”

\---

**New York Bell Company.**

 

If there was one thing Dorofeïa Usastova had learned from her time in New York was that the last place SSR Agents would look for someone was right in front of their noses.

“Please hold,” she said sweetly as she pretended to connect a call. In reality she was listening on any call coming through to the agents in the office above. The glasses she wore and the mousy hair ensured all men ignored her and she had strategically avoided Peggy at all costs. She couldn’t let her of all people know that Dorothy Underwood was not as far away as they thought.

“Please hold,” she said again, changing the plug from one to the other, finally getting hold of an agent who was on a call, but sighed at hearing he was talking to his _mother_.

She and her companion received a clear mission a few days back - kill whoever was claiming to be Captain America. Shooting Peggy was… unfortunate. But at least she learned that she and her old lover were on the same team, as he came to her rescue. Her companion had taken it from there, seemingly unsuccessful as the agents had taken no notice of an explosion in Brooklyn.

“Connecting you now,” she said, changing the plug once again.

“- _the retrieved suit has been stolen,_ ” an agent was saying in a flurry, “ _Chief Thompson is missing, he hasn’t been seen since yesterday -”_

 _“Attention agents!”_ a voice said in the distance and Dorofeïa shifted in her chair. _“Chief Thompson has been located, he seems to have been captured by the suspect -”_ She kept her face passive as the agent said the address where the Captain has been spotted. _“From what I understand he is wearing the suit -”_

“Thank you for your call,” Dorofeïa said still in that sweet voice. She took off the headset and got up. “I’m going for my lunch break, see you ladies later!”

One taxi ride later, she walked up the deserted convention hall that once held the Stark Expo. She knew damn well that it could be another trap, making a mental note not to leave until she shot something _alive_.

Falling for a dummy had been amateuristic. She would not be making the same mistake.

Voices echoed around the empty hall, one unmistakably Peggy. “Steve, we should _go_ -”

Dorofeïa couldn’t hear the Captain reply, but she could definitely see the man walk around in the uniform, talking to her. 

“Just let Thompson go, we can leave this place -”

She grabbed the gun from her purse, eyeing the man in the suit. Definitely not a dummy. Without hesitation she aimed for the same spot she shot mere days ago.

“ _Look out!_ ” Peggy yelled, spotting her, and Dorofeïa took the shot.

There was a grunt, a body falling and blood running onto the concrete floor. 

Mission complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well well, one more chapter to go.


	5. [The Room Empties]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mature content in this chapter.

**[The Room Empties]**

**Stark Mansion (The Upper East Side one)**

The Day Before

 

 

With a start, Jack Thompson awoke, immediately realizing his hands were cuffed and groaned miserably. He was stuck to a chair and sporting a massive headache.

His blurred vision slowly came into focus and to his surprise it was Carter looking down at him, her arms crossed.

“Carter?” he croaked.

“Hello Chief Thompson,” she said, appearing perfectly fine despite being shot at. “May I introduce Captain Steve Rogers?”

To Jack’s surprise, the man they had brought in a few days ago and was currently very much wanted, stepped into view. He had cleaned up and was undoubtedly very intimidating, and very much not holding Carter captive.

“What the hell is going on?” Jack demanded, tugging his hands.

“Yes, sorry for the… precaution,” Peggy continued, “I’m afraid due to the current circumstances, we had to make sure you would hear us out quietly.”

“Dammit, Carter! It’s stunts like these that will get you nowhere at the SSR,” he spat, tugging his hands. 

“I would hear Agent Carter out if I were you,” Rogers said calmly, “as the future of the SSR will depend on her.” He crossed his arms just like Carter, his muscles bulging.

“That’s all right, Steve,” Carter interfered, a soft blush on her cheeks. “I don’t think my future is quite with the SSR.” 

A heavy weight dropped down Jack’s stomach. “What do you mean?”

Peggy waved away his question. “First we need to clean this mess.”

There were stumbles coming from a room next door and the next second Sousa and Mr. Jarvis entered, carrying the box that Jack clearly knew as the box with the uniform they apprehended at the scene. 

“ _Sousa_ ,” he hissed.

“Oh, hey Jack,” Sousa said without even batting an eye. “Glad to see you made it all right. This place was definitely better to meet up since my original meeting location blew up.”

Jack stared at him incredulously. “What the hell is going on.”

More footsteps and Stark appeared carrying what looked like a full body suit. “Found it! Knew I had this stashed somewhere.”

Peggy looked at him pointedly. “I see you threw away all your inventions?”

“Only the malfunctioning ones,” Howard replied. 

Jack observed the weird arrange of people - mostly people who got the SSR in a load of trouble not long ago - and figured he must be having some kind of vivid nightmare. Or he was hallucinating. 

“Guys,” Captain America tried to no avail. “Attention!” he shouted, commanding silence. “The plan.” He nodded at Peggy to give her the room. There was so much respect in his look that Jack could barely phantom it.

“Right,” Peggy cleared her throat, “Chief Thompson, what we are about to ask of you is highly dangerous, however it would guarantee better results to accomplish our goals.”

Jack frowned. “What are your goals?”

“To make the appearance of Captain Rogers a hoax. Captain Rogers has no intention of returning to any military duties and would like to remain as he is in the public eye - d-dead.” She flinched at the last word. “However it appears there is a spy within the SSR office.”

“A spy?” Jack asked. “What do you mean?”

“The shooter,” Peggy explained. “They were not with us. They must have heard the location from within the office or followed the agents.”

“They will try again,” Rogers interjected. “They won’t stop until they’ve seen a body.”

Jack eyed the box with the uniform and then looked at Rogers. “You’re going to lure them out again and get shot?”

“No, Chief Thompson,” Peggy said lightly, “you are.”

\---

 

**Deserted Convention Hall**

The Next Day

 

Personally Peggy thought Thompson looked ridiculous in Steve’s suit. They had to bulk it up for it to fit, which was perfect as they wanted to make sure wherever he was shot, it would hit one of the blood pouches that was in between the suit and the layer of insulation. Plus of course Howard’s ultra slim bulletproof suit. He was indeed the right height though, Howard had been right.

“Just keep your voice down,” Peggy had told him as they waited for the signal that someone had been spotted entering the facility. 

Earlier that morning, Daniel had gone back to the office to stage the rescue, leading the agents at a detour in the hope they would arrive after the spy. 

The spy needed to see a body, the agents needed to find Thompson to be told about the hoax in order to draw out the spy. It was a complicated plan. A very Howard plan. _God, this better works_ , she thought.

“Why doesn’t he want to join the SSR?” Jack asked, still looking absolutely ridiculous in Steve’s helmet.

“He has his reasons,” she answered curtly. _Hurry up_.

“You sure they’re not going to shoot you?” He had a point - she was unprotected.

“If I appear ready for an attack, they will assume you are. Plus Steve reckons if they wanted me dead, they would not have missed in the first place.”

“Steve? _Steve?_ ” he scoffed and she rolled her eyes. His pace was awkward with all the added bulk, but in her opinion it was very in character. “What are your plans? Start off on your own with Stark? I’ve heard the rumors when you left after the zodiac.”

“Would we be giving the SSR sensitive material on highly classified Hydra bases if we were off to start our own intelligence service?” It had been the final push for Thompson to agree on the ridiculous plan. Steve had shown the folder, saying it contained Hydra locations he had been scouting during his absence. Peggy knew that wasn’t true, or at least not entirely, but for the sake of the mission, she watched him lie.

Steve had told her afterwards he was not giving Thompson the full document, just enough to keep him satisfied. She knew he was keeping things to himself, or things eventually to be given to her she hoped.

“I guess not,” Thompson finished. “Perhaps you and Rogers want to do like Betty and Cap in the Captain America Adventure Programme? Make some babies?”

“Shut it, or I’ll shoot you myself.”

A light was shone into her vision briefly. _The sign._ She took a deep breath, looked at Thompson sternly that he had to keep quiet and said: “Steve, we should _go_ -”

\---

To both their amazement - and perhaps everyone else’s too - the plan went off without a hitch. 

With a grunt she turned Thompson to his back. “That’s gonna bruise,” he groaned under his breath, but Peggy continued a frenzied cry for help and pretend to check if he was still alive. “Dang, Carter, you really care for this guy -”

She pinched him. _Hard._

The light flashed in her sight again and she knew they were in the clear - Dottie had left the building. She wasn’t particularly surprised that it was her. There had been a moment Peggy hadn’t been sure that she wouldn’t shoot her though, but her target had appeared to be clearly Steve.

Thompson removed the helmet and took a deep breath.

“That was some excellent damsel in distress, Carter.”

Running footsteps notified both that the SSR Agents were arriving. 

“Chief?”

“Stand down, fellas,” Thompson said, getting to his feet. “Carter and I have been running an undercover search for a spy within the SSR. The infriltant has been identified. Though I must admit that unfortunately there is no Captain America. The suspect was an actor -” He explained the in depth cover story that they had discussed over night. Though he made himself a bit more of a hero than he really was. “Now get this thing off me.” He shook off the gloves.

“It suits you, Chief,” one of the younger agents said. “Maybe you should be the new Captain America.”

Thompson laughed. “Maybe.” He shared a look with Peggy before walking out with the agents, discussing a plan of attack to catch Underwood.

Peggy watched them go and heard Steve approach her from behind.

“She fled,” he said, “lost her near the bridge. Couldn’t get closer or she would’ve seen me.”

“As long as she thinks you’re dead.” She spared him a small smile. “As you are to the SSR and general public too.”

He nodded. “It’s better this way.”

“I believe Howard has some housing options for you, funds too, to get started.”

“I’ll discuss it with him,” he said. “You should go to the office. We can - we can talk later.”

They looked at each other for a moment. There were many conversations they needed to have.

And a choice Peggy needed to make.

\---

 

 

**New Jersey. 1946**

 

Steve had his arms elbow deep in dirty dishwater when there was a soft knock on the front door. He froze, soldier instinct kicking in. It was well into the night, who would be visiting this late?

Then again all day he had been getting neighbors coming around to welcome him to the neighborhood. Mrs Cullen from next door had already promised that her daughter would be around next weekend even though Steve had repeatedly said he was dating someone. Or at least - he hoped he was.

Moving to New Jersey had been… _painful_. 

But the quiet tree-lined street, the veranda that reminded him of Tony’s lakeside cabin plus the added bonus of being a thirty minute drive from Camp Lehigh. He knew Peggy and Howard were already setting base there.

Laying low wasn’t ideal. The burden of knowledge kept him up every night and he knew at some point he and Peggy really needed to have the talk. 

Still drying his hands, he opened the front door and promptly dropped the towel.

“Hi Steve,” Peggy greeted him with the brightest smile. She was wearing a long red dress that followed the lines of her body perfectly. Blushing slightly she held up a champagne bottle. “I only realized as I knocked that this will be wasted on you.”

“Sorry?” Steve stuttered, his brain fogged.

“The serum?” Peggy said. “You once told me it burns the alcohol before you can get drunk?”

“Right.” He wished with his everything he would stop sounding so dumb. “Why did you bring it?”

She shrugged. “I thought we could celebrate.” Her eyes flickered over his shoulders. “May I come in?”

“Of course, of course,” he said, slapping himself mentally for not letting her in sooner.

She looked around before entering the living area. Her face was still bearing the brightest smile he had ever seen. “It’s -” she said, placing the bottle on the dining table. “It’s lovely.”

Steve stood awkwardly in the doorway and folded his arms. “It’s no Stark mansion.”

“Well,” she quirked her eyebrows, “I’ve never been a fan of how Howard lives anyway.” She leaned against the table, heeled foot scraping over the floor as she crossed her legs. “So, what’s your retirement plan?”

Steve huffed. “I - I need to learn first, I think.”

“Learn what?” She gave him a curious look.

“Learn how to live without fighting, without war. It’s - “ another huff, “- been quite the journey here. Think I might take up some painting, both the houses in this street and… art -”

The smile she gave him made his heart blossom. “You were quite the artist I recall.” She bit her lip. “It’s sad the world has to go on without Captain America.” 

“There will be other heroes,” he said without realizing. Another curious look.

“Will you ever tell me?” 

She pushed herself off from the table and almost _sauntered_ toward him. Her eyes were dark, lids heavy and her lips parted only slightly. Steve felt his breathing quicken. 

“Tell… you… what?” he murmured as she approached. His heart actually violently beat in chest when she reached to pick away a piece of fluff from his shirt. He felt like a teenager.

“ _Everything_?” she breathed, now resting her hand on his chest, the other on his waist and looking up at his lips. She smelled like roses and cognac. 

“I -” He was cut off by a kiss. Not a kiss like the one they shared after she got shot, not one like the sweet and quick pecks they exchanged after - not even a kiss like the one she gave him before he went onto the Valkyrie. 

It was a kiss filled with kept promises, slow, leisurely. 

Steve didn’t know what to do with his hands and actually had to be guided to place them on Peggy’s hips. His thumbs caressed over her soft tummy through her dress and he pulled her even closer. Her arms lifted and wrapped around his neck. 

With a soft smack of the lips they parted. He realized she was on her the tip of her toes to reach him and he couldn’t help but grin crookedly. 

“What?” she breathed, her eyes sparkling and the corner of her lips quirked. Her lipstick was smudged and he knew he must have some on his face, but he couldn’t care less and hoisted her up from the floor, hands cupping the perfect curve of her bottom. She squealed, balancing herself on his shoulders, and looked down through the curtain of her hair. 

“How ‘bout that raincheck on that dance?” he asked.

She shook the hair out her face and licked her lips. “How about we postpone it just a bit longer?” Leaning forward to quickly kiss him again and added: “Just a few hours?”

He laughed and started to carry her to the bedroom. The house had furniture - not much felt like his quite yet, but he was sure after some rearrangements and finding some things he can call his, it would be a home. Especially with her in it. 

Something fell on the floor as they manoeuvred and Peggy had lost a shoe, the other quickly following. 

“Don’t rip this dress, please,” Peggy murmured before being laid out on the bed. Like the rest of the house, the bedroom lacked personality. The bed was nothing compared to what he used to sleep in Washington or on the compound, but it was miles better than what he used to sleep on in Brooklyn or at the campsites.

The bed squeaked, and so did Peggy when he crawled on top of her to continue their kissing. He cupped her perfectly strong jaw and nipped her lower lip. 

“Peggy,” he whispered, kissing her languidly again. “I want you to let me know when I need to stop, or if there’s anything you don’t - ah,” she moved to kiss down his jaw and throat and he felt his cock become heavier in his slacks, “ _oh_ \- oh, please - please promise -”

Without warning he was rolled onto his back, Peggy straddling his hips and pressing him down into the mattress. 

“Steve,” she said, getting red in the face, “I - I’ve never done anything… except well… what we did… a few days back,” she blushed even deeper, “And while there are the… books, and the _gossip_ and the… locker room talk… there’s -” She moved slightly, riding down unintentionally and perfectly on his swelling erection and he let out a strangled gasp. “Oh.”

He let out a noise that could only be described as _hgnahfff_.

She rode down again experimentally and his hands shot up to hold her hips in place. Her dress had ridden up, revealing the bare skin between her stockings and knickers. 

“I know - “ she breathed heavily, “I know how babies are made.” The flush was spreading down from her face to her throat to her cleavage. “But… what do you did…” She leaned over, hands digging into his abdomen and fingers moving to toy with the buttons of his shirt. “What you did with your _mouth_.”

“ _Peggy,_ ” he gasped. His hips stuttered up involuntary. She was warm, and soft and heartrendingly beautiful. 

“I’d like to feel that again.” She gave up on the buttons and untucked his shirt, shoving it up his chest to reveal skin. “And I want to share that feeling… with you.” 

Their breathing leveled out as they stared at each other, both pairs of eyes filled with _want_. 

“So,” he said, “no ripping the dress?”

She looked at him incredulously for a moment and then grinned. “I’m quite fond of this one, plus it’s not covered in blood.” She reached back for the buttons and, with a whimper from Steve, moved away from his lap to take her dress off, stopping abruptly. “You too.”

“What?” he asked, distractedly, thoroughly enjoying the show. With a swift motion she the dress slid off her shoulders, leaving her in her lingerie.

“Your turn, Steve.” She grinned like a lioness looking at prey. “Take it off.”

He didn’t need to be told again and quickly made work of his shirt and undershirt. Her dress had been neatly folded by the time he undid his belt and kicked off his slacks into a heap on the floor. 

Another moment where they simply stared at each other, followed by Peggy reaching back to undo her suspender belt in practically slow motion. Steve gulped as she rolled down her knickers and stockings, leaving her in just her bra.

Of course he had admired her body before. The hourglass shape should be admired by all people. She took off her bra and stood gloriously naked in front of him. Her breasts were heavy and round, nipples perked. There were scars - her most recent wound still carefully wrapped - and signs of fights and war. Some bruises scattered on her shins and thighs. 

Suddenly shy, she covered her chest. “So are we going under the covers?”

It took a second for Steve’s brain to rewire and he jumped up, pulling away the sheets and lying down again. Peggy sneaked in next to him and he covered them. He realized he was still in his briefs and with a quick questioning look, Peggy nodded and he wriggled out of them.

And so, for the first time, they were naked together. 

Steve’s heart was hammering in his chest, his cock fully erect against his hipbone and Peggy’s warmth radiating toward him. She scooted closer and nestled against his side.

“This is a lot how I thought it would be,” Peggy confided, blushing even in the dim light of the ceiling lamp. 

“Y-you th-thought?” Steve spluttered. “About - about this?”

“Oh hush, Rogers, of course I’ve thought about sneaking into your cot during the war.” 

“Y-you what?” Again he was cut off by a kiss. She was solid against him, her leg now resting onto his and her hand warm on his chest. Slowly Steve’s brain restarted and mid-kiss rolled them over so he was on top of her. The little gasp that escaped her made him aware that his cock was nestled against her thigh and he lifted himself up like he was doing a push up.

Peggy honest to God _snorted_. 

“What?” Steve asked panicked, wondering what he did wrong this time.

“ _Steve_ , we - we’re about to have… _intercourse_. You can’t hide your… _member_ forever.” She laughed again as he stayed in his push up position. “Remember when you could barely do one? A push up, I mean?” Her hand cupped his jaw gently. “Yet you were trying, probably even more than all the other soldiers combined.”

Steve smiled. “The day with the dummy grenade?”

“Yeah,” she said, returning the smile. She shifted slightly and spread her legs. “I wanted to run for it too, but you beat me to it.”

He let out a huff. “I don’t understand why they went high and low to find a perfect candidate for Project Rebirth,” he lowered himself slowly, “when you were right under their noses.” He kissed her as he settled between her legs, his cock gravitating to the heat there. Out of instinct he reached down and used his hand to guide the tip between her folds but she went completely rigid underneath him and he pulled out straight away.

“Sorry -”

“- I’m sorry!”

They apologized at the same time and Peggy scrambled up against the pillows, her chest heaving and lips kiss swollen. 

“I - I panicked!”

“No, no - I’m moving too fast, I’m sorry,” he kissed her reassuringly. “Let me - let’s relax.” Moving to lie on his side, he traced the line of her cheek with his fingers, down her jaw and neck and let them rest for a moment on her collarbone. “Just breathe,” he said encouragingly. He flattened his hand and caressed her breast, squeezing it gently and pinching her nipple which earned him a gasp. 

“Steve,” she whimpered. 

“It’s okay,” he soothed. He moved down further and cupped her mound of coarse curls. “It felt good last time, didn’t it?” She flushed and nodded. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want -”

“Steve, I _want_ to.” Her head fell back onto the pillow with a thud and she covered her eyes with her forearm. 

“Okay,” he murmured, taking it as an invitation to gently move his middle finger between her folds and feeling how wet she was. She went rigid again for a second and he was ready for it this time, finding the little nub that he knew was her clit. He had done his research back in the twenty-first century.

It took a moment for him to find a rhythm but managed to move both fingers in a steady pace and slowly but surely Peggy started to relax underneath him. Just like she had done when he had used his mouth, she started to writhe and Steve took it as encouragement and added his ring finger. 

“ _God_ ,” she said and swore. 

The pace quickened and the glide in and out went smoother each time. His cock was leaking against her thigh, but he didn’t care and moved to nip at her hard nipple. More swearing ensued. 

When a third finger could be added with ease, he looked up at her and said her name. She moved her arm away and looked at him with hooded eyes. His cock was painfully hard and dark at the tip. He didn’t even have to ask the question out loud as she nodded almost frantically. 

“Yes,” she breathed, “ _please_.”

With a final rub against her clit - Peggy whimpered - he removed his hand and re-positioned himself between her legs. Using the wetness of his hand, he gave his cock a few strokes - making him groan - and again guided the tip into the hotness of her folds. 

Like him, Peggy seemed ready now for the sensation and forced herself to relax. It didn’t stop her chest from quivering and her breathing to be hitched and he sunk fully into her. They exhaled at the same time and found each other’s gaze.

“Good?” he couldn’t help but ask and she let out a breathy chuckle. “I’m gonna -” and he moved experimentally, sliding out and back into her. A moan replaced the chuckle and she arched her back up from the bed, slotting their bodies together. 

He slammed their mouths together, kissing her hungrily and parting her lips with his tongue. His hands groped at her hips and dug his fingers into her softness of her body. He started to drive her deeper into the mattress, hips thrusting without any finesse. 

They broke apart from the kiss. Her breath was hot on his face and he never could’ve imagined he would be so lucky to see her the way she looked now. A soft sheen of sweat graced her skin. Her lips, now completely free of lipstick, were swollen red naturally. Her hair was a mess of curls on the pillow and soft whimpers escaped her mouth.

He wanted to make her come. Make her feel the way he made her feel during their first time being intimate, but couldn’t find a way to move his hand to rub her clit again.

Thinking on the spot, he pulled out of her entirely and she let out a squeak of protest. A feeling of smugness made the corner of his mouth quirk up. 

She was a heap of limbs and let herself be manhandled with ease onto her side, her glorious bottom resting against his wet and red cock as he spooned her from behind.

“What -” Peggy began, but he lifted her leg and guided his cock back into the welcoming warmth. He nipped at her earlobe and kissed her neck, hiding his face in the crook of it and starting to thrust again. His hand slid from her arm to the dip at her waist, over the curve of her hip and back to the curls between her legs. He found her clit with ease and the soft moans and whimpers returned with reverence. 

She squeezed her legs shut as he continued to thrust into her from behind and quivered in his arms. 

“Steve,” she huffed, “ _oh -_ oh - _Steve!”_ A sudden gasp followed and she stilled for a second before her body positively _rippled_ in climax. He slowed down his thrusts, letting her catch her breath, but not moving his hand away from her clit until she batted it away with her own hand.

“Feels - feels sensitive -” she gasped between breaths. 

Immediately he moved, sliding out of her with ease and falling onto his back to lie next to her. They were both sweaty and breathing heavily, his cock still painfully hard. He felt her eyes on him and turned. It was a beautiful sight and she bit her lip.

Without asking, without even a hesitation - her hand moved under the covers to grasp his cock and he let out a choked gasp.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Peggy confessed and her thumb moved experimentally over the tip.

“That’s -” he said breathlessly, “- that’s a pretty good start.”

It was the strangest feeling; having someone else fist their hand around his cock and stroking it. He stared at her - her face screwed up in concentration - and hated the feeling of selfishness as he chased his orgasm. Something in him wanted to make _her_ come again.

“Peggy,” he whimpered and she let go of his cock immediately.

“What is it? Did I do something wrong?” She stared at him in alarm.

“What? No! No, not at all - I just -” he dropped his head into the pillow and huffed a laugh. “Come here.” With his hand he beckoned her to come up and kissed her. In one swift motion he sat up against the headboard, Peggy’s legs straddling around his left thigh and he felt that she was still very wet. “Your own pace,” he murmured. He took her right hand and placed it on his shoulder to help her balance and with his own right he took her left and guided it back around his cock. 

Together they jerked him off and with his free hand he cupped her waist, encouraging her to ride down on his thigh. 

The room filled with their gasps and moans. Frantically Steve moved her hand up and down, feeling that he was about to come. His pace was matched by Peggy riding his leg, her breasts bouncing at the movement. A quick vision of her riding his cock made the tip leak come and he knew it wouldn’t be long. He felt it build up and up until he couldn’t hold it no more and came with long spurts of come on his stomach.

Peggy was still riding down, seemingly close herself to come again, and he moved his hand from her waist to rub her clit until, the now familiar, noises and quivering started all over again and she came with a gasp. 

She looked at him, breathing heavily. Her hair was in tangles, her body completely slick with sweat that was cooling rapidly, and her eyes darted down. For a moment she just stared at his now softening cock. 

“That was -” she said still breathy. “Was that -?”

“Oh it was,” he finished for her and something bubbled between them that made them both laugh giddily. “I should clean this,” he said apologetically, gesturing at the drying come.

“Yes,” she said, “of course.” A beat. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

He huffed out another laugh before with all the gentleness he could muster, rearranged her to be lying on her back in the bed, safely under the sheets.

Her eyes followed him hungrily as he left the bed in search of a cloth or a towel to clean himself. By the time he was back, he realized she was asleep - though her position appeared she had tried her hardest to stay awake.

Joining her back in the bed, he rearranged her against his chest and she hummed approvingly. 

His gaze was on the ceiling, his arm around her back and he allowed himself the smallest of smiles.

 _He was home_.

 

\---

\--

-

 

**Siberia. 1946**

 

Doctor Arnim Zola watched the man and woman approach him in the empty air force base. With the help from his cellmate at the SSR, it hadn’t taken much to hypnotize several agents into setting him free. He, of course, had Doctor Fennhoff killed at the first opportunity, before leaving for Russia and to be reunited with his greatest project yet.

“Mission report,” he commanded.

The asset placed the silver and black briefcase on the floor.

“Mission complete. Target eliminated. Evidence destroyed.”

The woman smiled. “I also have intel of the creation of a new intelligence operation.”

“Excellent,” Zola said appreciatively. The woman had been a great addition, even if she previously had worked for Leviathan. “We will need to start infiltrating from the very beginning.” 

The woman pursed her lips. “Peggy Carter might be an issue there.”

“No need to worry, no need to worry,” Zola dismissed, opening the briefcase and taking out the inserts. He ignored most of the contents, unsure of what everything was but at last finding the manila folder. “We have a new mission.”

He knew the minute his radar showed a dip a few weeks ago, something had entered the earth that caused a flux within the continuum. Given his brilliance, and several insiders at the SSR, it had not been difficult to realize that the Captain America that had appeared was not the Captain that disappeared over a year ago.

There was much to learn on the how and why, but most importantly he knew this Captain must have been bearing gifts.

He broke the seal of the folder and smiled.

“Soldat, prepare for mission.” The asset straightened himself. “Retrieve target.” Zola handed over the piece of paper, still smiling, and watched the man head to the plane at once.

“Where is he going?” the woman asked. “What was in the folder?”

“Hydra’s future,” he said.

The plane began to take off, following the coordinates indicated in the folder, to the location of the Valkyrie. 

The plane that had crashed into the ice in 1945. 

-

\--

\---

**End.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't realized by now - I am a stickler for cliffhangers.
> 
> There you have it folks, my take on how Steve returned to the past - an absolute mess. 
> 
> Please talk to your partners before having unsafe sex!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and those who have been commenting and kudo'ing throughout posting. I'll tell you all that I've had quite the writers block the past few years and was absolutely delighted to come up with a plot for a fic.
> 
> Now, judging by that ending - there is the possibility of a sequel, but I will require lots of motivation from you! So please do leave a comment, let me know your thoughts and whether or not you would like to read this sequel.
> 
> Love you lots and thanks again for reading!  
> \- Daphne/foxxed


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